n 


TMiW/AX/ 


MNGSj 


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Life  on  High  Levels.     Familiar  Talks  on  the  Con- 
duct of  Life.     12mo.     90  cents. 
Encouraging  chapters  for  young  people  on  Christian  living. 

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Two  stories  for  girls,  with  lessons  of  Christian  usefulness  in 
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CHEERFUL  TO-DAYS 


AND 


TRUSTFUL  TO-MORROWS 


BY 

MARGARET  E.  SANGSTER 

Author  of  "  LiFB  on  High  Levels,"  "  Maidie's  Problem," 
"  Home  Life  Made  Beautiful,"  Etc. 


"Bb  tbB  fea^B,  BO  sball  tb?  Btrengtb  be." 
" 'Cln^erneatb  are  tbe  everlasting  arms." 


New  York 
EATON    &    M-A.INS 


^. 


Copyright  by 

EATON  &  MAINS, 

J899. 


Eaton  &  Mains  Press, 
150  Fifth  Avenue,  New  York. 


TO 

iBB  Srotbec  5obn 

WHO,  WITH   ME,    REMEMBERS   REVERENTLY 
OUR 

jfatbec  and  Aotbec 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PACK 

I.  Freedom  from  Worry I 

II.  Repose  of  Manner lO 

III.  When  the  Children  Are  Around    Us i8 

IV.  When  the  Young  People  Grow  Up 27 

V.  Home  Reading 34 

VI,  Thrift  for  the  Rainy  Day 42 

VII.  Days  of  Illness 51 

VIII.  Comfort  in  Sorrow 62 

IX.  Looking  Forward 73 

X.  Music  at  Home 81 

XI.  Of  Beauty  and  Its  Charm 89 

XII.  Mothers  and  Sons 96 

XIII.  Linked  with  Many  Lives ....  iii 

XIV.  The  Keeping  of  Home  Anniversaries 129 

XV.  The  Plant  Heart's-ease 138 

XVI.  The  Easter  Joy 148 

vii 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGB 

XVII.  Mornings  with  the  Bible 156 

XVIII.  Sweet  Hour  of  Prayer 162 

XIX.  Growing  Old 167 

XX.  Home  Awaiting 172 

XXI.  A  Study  of  Angels 181 

XXII.  Talking  with  Our  Heavenly  Father 202 

XXIII.  Devout  Women  of  an  Elder  Day 214 

XXIV.  Daily  Problems 230 

XXV.  With  Level  Eyes 245 

XXVI.  Young  Women  and  Self-support 254 

XXVII.  Counting  the  Blessings 263 

XXVIII.  Looking  unto  Jesus 271 

XXIX.  The  Sunny  Heart 277 

XXX.  Beyond  the  Horizon's  Rim 288 

XXXI.  The  Habit  of  Holding  On 301 

XXXII.  One  More  Word  for  Our  Girls 306 

viii 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


Margaret  E.  Sangster Frontispiece 

"  Tucked,  Safe  and  Cozy,  into  their  Beds".  ..Facing  p.  20 

"  Beside  the  Glowing  Hearth  " •'  36 

"One  Little  Daughter" "  68 

"  Sing  in  the  Evening  Twilight,  When  the 

Shadow  of  Eve  is  Nigh  " "  86 

The  Sewing  Meeting *•         126 

"Last  at  the  Cross,  and  Earliest  at  the  Tomb  "      "         148 

The  Annunciation.     (After  the  Painting  by 

D.  G.  Rossetti.) »         ig6 

ix 


CHEERFUL  TO-DAYS 


AND 


TRUSTFUL  TO-MORROWS 


CHAPTER  I 

Freedom  from  Worry 

She  was  not  young  and  her  path  had  been 
rough  and  steep,  this  dear  little  mother  whose, 
sweet  face  shines  upon  me,  out  of  the  dim  past, 
like  a  beautiful  beaming  star.  It  was  a  face 
which  kept  to  old  age  something  of  its  childish 
sweetness  and  eagerness  of  expression,  for  to 
this  dear  one  it  was  given  never  to  lose  the  child 
heart,  and  it  was,  and  is,  unto  such  as  she  that 
our  blessed  Lord  has  always  revealed  the  inner 
meaning  of  the  Kingdom.  Wistful  and  loving 
and  animated,  let  cares  and  burdens  be  ever  so 
numerous,  it  was  hers  to  know  the  full  blessed- 
ness of  that  text,  "The  beloved  of  the  Lord 
shall  dwell  in  safety  by  him."  Her  sorrows  had 
been  many.     She  had  known  the  exquisite  pain 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

of  losing  her  firstborn  in  his  lovely  babyhood, 
she  had  seen  an  older  laddie  stricken  down  in  a 
moment,  and  through  one  never  forgotten  sum- 
mer she  had  watched  the  gradual  decline  of 
another  precious  son;  so  that  three  times  the 
light  had  been  blotted  from  her  sky  and  the 
noonday  had  been  as  the  night. 

Then,  from  wonderful  and  elastic  health, 
she  had  been  plunged  into  the  long  weariness 
of  an  invalid's  life.  It  began  with  a  serious 
illness  which  followed  closely  upon  her  widow- 
hood, while  her  three  remaining  children  were 
all  very  young.  That  exhausting  illness,  in 
which  for  weeks  she  hung  upon  thp  border  land 
and  which  brought  her  to  the  very  edge  of  the 
dark  river,  so  that  life  seemed  to  pull  her  out 
and  back  when  her  feet  were  cold  in  the  rush- 
ing flood,  and  her  family,  her  pastor  and  her 
physician  had  all  given  her  up,  left  her  at  last, 
but  with  only  the  fragments  of  the  strong  con- 
stitution she  had  once  had.  The  twenty-five 
remaining  years  were  more  or  less  a  battle,  and 
she  fought  that  battle  with  a  persistent  courage 
and  a  quality  of  cheerfulness  which  she  could 
never  have  had  if  One  like  unto  the  Son  of  God 

had  not  been  ever  at  her  side. 
2 


Trustful  To-morrows 

She  had  been  tried  also  in  the  crucible  of 
limited  means.  The  house  must  be  kept,  the 
children  must  be  educated,  the  Lord's  tenth 
must  be  devoted,  and  the  purse  was  always  nar- 
row, and  sometimes  the  gray  gaunt  wolf  not 
only  scratched  at  the  door  but  dared  to  put  his 
head  inside.  Never  mind.  He  was  always 
thrust  back,  and  the  door  slammed  boldly  in  his 
face.  Kith  and  kin  of  hers  were  few  but  those 
she  had  stood  by  her  in  loyalty  of  love  and  trust, 
and  hers  was  the  spirit  of  one,  her  friend,  who 
in  similar  circumstances  said,  "I  have  no  fear. 
If  it  be  necessary  for  the  Lord  to  work  a  miracle 
for  my  children  and  me  he  will  do  it." 

The  barrel  of  meal  did  not  waste,  and  the 
cruse  of  oil  did  not  fail,  though  now  and  then 
the  scoop  was  scanty  and  there  were  but  few 
drops  in  the  flask.  The  children  grew  up,  there 
were  books  arouijd  them,  they  were  sent  to  the 
best  schools;  their  advantages  were  not  less- 
ened because  their  earthly  father  had  left  them 
no  fortune  except  a  sunny  temperament  and  a 
boundless  trust  in  God. 

One  great  advantage  they  had,  that  it  never 
even  occurred  to  them  to  complain  of  their  lot, 
to  regard  self-denial  as  a  hardship,  or  to  apolo- 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

gize  for  an3^thiiig  in  their  surroundings.  One 
day  a  second-hand  piano  came  home.  Theii 
little  parlor,  with  its  ingrain  carpet,  marble- 
topped  table  and  six  haircloth-covered  chairs 
appeared  to  them  a  drawing  room  fit  for  a  queer 
— as  indeed  it  was,  for  a  queen  presided  over  i1 
and  sat  there  smiling  and  happy  when  the  litth 
daughter  ran  her  fingers  up  and  down  the  ivor^ 
keys. 

The  grace  of  freedom  from  worry  was  always 
in  that  home. 

One  evening,  at  the  end  of  a  rather  tedious 
day,  when  the  money  was  low  and  the  coal  ir 
the  bin  was  also  low  and  winter  was  sounding 
his  advance  in  chill  blasts  of  the  north  wine 
and  fierce  tussles  of  the  bare  tree  boughs,  th( 
little  mother  went  to  her  room  for  a  half  hour's 
rest.  She  always  said  that  she  was  lying  wide 
awake,  that  she  had  not  so  much  as  fallen  asleep 
for  an  instant,  and  if  we  thought  that  she  was 
mistaken  we  never  told  her  so;  for,  whether  i1 
was  a  dream  or  whether  it  was  a  vision,  the  Lore 
of  glory  vouchsafed  a  comforting  revelation  oj 
himself  by  means  of  it  to  the  handmaid  whose 
chief  Joy  was  his  service. 

She  said  she  was  aware  suddenly  of  a  pres- 

4 


Trustful  To-morrows 

ence  in  the  room.  "I  looked  about,"  here  her 
blue  eyes  grew  very  soft  and  earnest,  "to  see  if 
it  was  M.  or  Isa,  but  I  had  not  heard  the  door 
open,  and  the  door  was  shut.  Nobody  was 
there.  But  all  above  and  around  me  the  atmos- 
phere grew  bright,  and  through  the  clear  bright- 
ness formed  a  something  still  more  radiant  and 
golden,  bending  and  brooding  over  me  as  I  lay 
in  the  bed  and  looked  up,  and  then,  sweet  and 
very  tender,  came  a  word  I  heard  in  my  heart 
just  as  if  a  voice  had  spoken : 

"  'My  God  shall  supply  all  your  need.  Be 
not  faithless,  but  believing.' " 

Dream  or  vision,  it  gave  her  new  strength  for 
the  way  and  she  arose  and  went  on,  rejoicing  in 
the  Lord. 

We  hear  a  good  deal  in  these  days  about  the 
futility  of  worry,  and  there  are  many  who  try 
to  live  in  the  peace  and  serenity  which  come 
from  abandoning  all  needless  anxiety.  But  I 
cannot  quite  understand  how  any  of  us,  in  this 
peculiarly  changeful  world,  can  live  in  entire 
freedom  from  this  scourge  unless  we  follow  the 
apostolic  injunction,  "In  everything  by  prayer 
and  supplication  with  thanksgiving  let  your 
requests  be  made  known  unto  God." 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

It  is  the  Christian's  privilege  to  meet  every 
situation  with  an  undaunted  front,  never  to  be 
taken  by  surprise,  never  to  be  found  off  guard. 
While  it  is  comparatively  easy  to  cease  from 
worry  for  one's  self,  we  all  know  how  hard  it  is 
not  to  carry  vicarious  worries.  The  son,  dear 
as  your  O'wn  life,  who  loses  his  position  and 
cannot  find  another,  the  daughter,  a  few  years 
ago  like  a  rose  in  bloom,  so  fresh,  so  fair,  now 
crippled  with  rheumatism,  or  failing  before 
your  eyes  with  some  relentless  and  subtle  mal- 
ady which  defies  medical  skill,  the  husband 
stricken  in  his  prime  with  paralysis,  and  thence- 
forward all  his  days  compelled  to  walk  softly, 
the  friend  bereaved,  and  unable  to  rise  above 
the  weight  of  grief,  the  acquaintance  taking  a 
wrong  turn  in  the  road,  the  pastor  unappre- 
ciated in  his  parish,  all  the  wonderful  social 
network  woven  around  our  homes  and  affections 
— how  difficult  it  is  to  refrain  from  worry  about 
these. 

For,  you  see,  sympathy  is  as  much  a  daily 
duty  as  tranquillity,  and  we  are  as  really  bound 
to  fulfill  the  law  of  Christ  by  bearing  one  an- 
other's burdens  as  by  cessation  from  the  strain 

of  fretting  and  fussing  and  fuming,  of  wearing 
c 


Trustful  To-moeeows 

ourselves  and  our  friends  out  by  unavailing 
care. 

The  secret  of  the  blessedness  which  sets  us 
free  to  serve  is,  I  am  sure,  found  only  in  unre- 
served acceptance  of  the  will  of  God  as  best  for 
us  and  ours,  and  in  daily  communion  with  the 
Master.  Once  we  have  lived  into  that  dear  and 
intimate  friendship  with  Jesus  which  enables 
us  to  feel,  without  a  question,  that  his  will  is  not 
only  his  choice  for  us  but  ours  too,  we  step 
into  a  land  of  serenity  where  never  intrudes  a 
single  chilling  blast  of  doubt. 

"I  know  no  life  divided, 
O  Lord  of  life,  from  thee." 

"I  would  rather  walk  with  God  in  the  dark 
Than  walk  alone  in  the  light." 

"Looking  to  Jesus — 

Ever  serener, 
Working  or  suffering, 

Be  thy  demeanor." 

There  is  absolutely  no  possibility  of  worry  for 
the  soul  which  thus  knows  the  Lord. 

Of  course  there  are  differences  of  disposition 
which  must  be  taken  into  account.  Happy  are 
they  whom  the  Lord,  from  their  cradles,  has 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

endowed  with  a  capacity  for  discerning  the 
sun  behind  the  clouds.  To  see  the  bright  side 
instinctively  is  a  rare  and  gracious  gift.  A 
man  of  "cheerful  yesterdays  and  confident  to- 
morrows" is  usually  a  pleasant  companion,  and 
a  good  comrade  on  the  road  of  life.  In  Mrs. 
Oliphant's  recently  published  autobiography — 
the  story  it  is  of  a  very  brave  and  noble  life — 
there  is  a  chapter  in  which  she  tells  how  she 
had  come  to  a  crisis  in  her  affairs,  and  there 
were  a  number  of  helpless  people  depending  on 
her  and  her  little  slender  pen. 

"I  recollect  coming  home  in  a  kind  of  despair 
and  being  met  at  the  door,  when  it  was  opened 
to  me,  by  the  murmur  of  the  merry  house,  the 
cheerful  voices,  the  overflowing  home,  every 
corner  full  and  warm  as  if  it  had  a  steady  in- 
come and  secure  revenue  at  its  back.  I  used  to 
work  very  late  then,  always  till  two  in  the  morn- 
ing; I  can't  remember  whether  I  worked  that 
night,  but  I  think  it  was  one  of  the  darkest 
nights  and  I  could  not  think  what  I  should  do." 

Next  morning  came  an  unexpected  visitor, 

and  unexpected  help,  and  "the  road  did  run 

round  that  corner  after  all.      Our  Father  in 

heaven  had  settled  it  all  the  time  for  the  chil- 
8 


Trustful  To-morrows 

dren;  there  had  never  heen  any  doubt.  I  was 
absolutely  without  hope  or  help.  I  did  not 
know  where  to  turn,  and  here,  in  a  moment,  all 
was  clear  again — the  road  free  in  the  sunshine, 
the  cloud  in  a  moment  rolled  away." 

God's  dear  child  ought  not  to  have  been  with- 
out hope.  There  is  always  blue  sky  some- 
where, and  all  things  are  always  working  to- 
gether for  good  to  those  who  love  God.  The 
peace  that  passeth  all  understanding  shall  keep 
us,  as  the  sentry  keeps  the  camp,  if  we  but  trust 
and  obey. 


Cheerful  To-days  and 


CHAPTER  II 

Repose  op  Manner 

Even  if  one  is  conscious  of  agitation  and  tur- 
moil underneath,  there  is  a  distinct  gain  in  its 
control  by  the  cultivation  of  repose  of  manner. 
Largely  this  may  be  a  matter  of  habit,  and  one 
may  so  discipline  her  muscles,  and  so  accustom 
them  to  obedience,  that  she  will  repress  the  pet- 
ulant frown,  forbid  her  lips  the  down-drooping 
curve,  and  train  her  body  to  express  ease  and 
quiet  rather  than  impatience  and  irritability. 
The  dignity  of  a  tranquil  demeanor  so  far  ex- 
ceeds the  opposite — lack  of  poise — which  is 
shown  in  undue  emphasis,  in  jerky  movements, 
and  frequent  complaint,  that  for  its  mere 
beauty,  aside  from  its  ethical  value,  one  should 
seek  its  possession.  All  the  varieties  of  scold- 
ing, nagging,  fault-finding,  and  bemoaning 
one's  fate,  born  of  insufficient  self-respect  and 
of  intermittent  self-control,  are  impossible  to 
her  who  has  made  repose  her  garment  of  de- 
fense, her  chain  armor,  against  the  world. 
10 


TEUSTFUJi    TO-MOREOWS 

A  good  deal  of  our  flurried  and  perturbed 
manner  we  owe  to  our  tendency  to  indulge  in 
both  work  and  play  beyond  our  strength.  We 
do  not  know  when  to  stop.  We  carry  our  golf- 
ing, our  skating,  our  tennis,  our  driving,  riding 
and  walking  to  such  an  extent  that  instead  of 
adding  to  our  stock  of  health  they  exhaust  it; 
and  if  this  be  true  of  recreation  it  is  still  more 
true  of  work.  The  mother  is  sewing  on  the  lit- 
tle frock,  and  it  must  be  finished  by  Saturday 
night.  The  frills  and  puffs  and  tucks  are  so 
elaborate  that  the  sewing  on  the  small  maiden's 
Sabbath  raiment  is  appalling  if  one  remembers 
the  drain  that  fine  stitching  makes  on  a  not 
over-vigorous  woman,  so  that  she  feels  at  last 
as  if  a  sudden  step  on  the  floor  or  an  unexpected 
question  would  make  her  scream  or  jump.  Two 
questions  arise:  Why  should  a  child's  frock  be 
other  than  simple?  A  plain  little  smock  with 
no  elaboration  of  ornament,  with  only  a  deep 
hem,  is  appropriate  for  any  little  girl,  be  her 
station  what  it  may.  The  washerwoman's 
daughter  and  the  queen's,  during  those  happy 
years  between  three  and  twelve,  should  so  far 
as  style  is  concerned  be  dressed  precisely  alike. 

Then,  why  must  the  frock  be  done  by  a  certain 
11 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

hour ;  why  must  there  be  a  new  frock  always  for 
Sunday's  wearing?  Few  small  maidens  are 
without  a  change  of  clothing,  and  all  that  is 
requisite  for  church  and  Sunday  school  is  some- 
thing whole  and  clean,  dainty  from  the  laundry 
or  the  wardrobe,  but  not  necessarily  new.  The 
mother  would  do  far  better  for  herself  and  her 
child  by  stopping  her  work  before  she  is  very 
tired,  and  by  saving  her  nervous  force  for  the 
pleasure  of  her  home  life. 

Many  a  cross  word  is  needlessly  spoken,  many 
a  jarring  chord  is  struck,  many  a  time  the 
wheels  of  the  household  grate  harshly  along  the 
road,  because  there  is  friction  in  the  mother's 
temper.  The  temper  which  is  adjusted  to  the 
day,  which  is  fine-edged  and  keen  j'^et  never 
morose,  which  meets  every  difficulty  with  a 
brave  spirit  and  never  prints  itself  on  a  clouded 
countenance,  is  worth  having,  worth  striving 
for,  worth  praying  for  day  by  day.  If  we  can 
gain  repose  nowhere  else  we  can  find  it  in  the 
little  sanctuary  of  the  closet. 

"I  always  knew  when  mother  had  been  talk- 
ing with  God,"  said  a  man  whose  Christian  life 
was  full  of  sweetness  and  who  was  widely  in- 
fluential. "She  had  a  little  room  at  the  end  of 
12 


Tkustful  To-mokrows 

the  hall,  and  when  she  went  in  and  shut  fast 
the  door  we  children  walked  softly  past,  for  we 
knew  that  in  there  our  mother  was  kneeling  at 
the  mercy  seat."  When  she  came  forth  her  face 
shone. 

Another  and  contrasting  picture  comes  to  my 
mind.  "I  never  was  intimate  with  my  mother, 
nor  anything  but  afraid  of  her  until  I  was 
eighteen  years  old,"  said  a  lady,  a  shadow  of 
pain  on  her  face.  "Before  my  birth  mother  had 
had  a  great  grief  and  she  turned  away  from 
God.  Her  looks  were  always  severe,  and  she 
was  cold  to  her  children  though  I  do  think  she 
loved  them." 

A  woman  who  in  middle  life  retains  the  fresh- 
ness of  girlhood  in  her  complexion,  and  its  grace 
in  her  step,  whose  face  is  the  mirror  of  a  beauti- 
ful soul,  was  one  day  asked  how,  during  a  long 
experience  of  physical  suffering,  she  had  kept 
herself  from  outward  appearance  of  distress, 
from  lines  and  marks  which  pain  often  leaves. 
"For  one  thing,"  she  said,  "I  know  my  Heaven- 
ly Father  appoints  everything,  and  so  I  take 
with  Joy  whatever  he  sends.  Then  I  know,  too, 
that    every    trace    of    impatience    in    thought 

must  leave  its  finger  print  on  my  face,  so  I 
13 


S' 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

am  careful  never  to  look  fretful  even  for  a 
moment." 

We  have  heard  a  great  deal  about  the  value 
of  relaxation  at  certain  intervals  during  our 
busiest  days.  Do  we  try  it?  If  I  could  per- 
suade you,  whose  eyes  are  tired  out,  to  simply 
fold  your  hands  and  close  your  eyes  for  five 
minutes  every  hour  I  should  soon  convince  you 
that  the  weariness  would  be  greatly  relieved.  If, 
now  and  then,  we  who  cannot  take  our  hands 
from  the  domestic  helm — from  the  cooking  and 
pickling  and  preserving,  and  the  management 
of  the  house — would  go  by  ourselves,  sit  down 
in  a  rocking-chair  or  lie  upon  a  lounge  for  fif- 
teen minutes,  allowing  the  mind  to  be  a  blank 
and  the  thoughts  to  fasten  upon  nothing,  while 
hands  and  feet  cease  their  clinging  hold  upon 
existence  and  relax  as  a  baby's  do,  we  should  dis- 
cover that  there  is  magic  in  even  these  bits  of 
rest  between  times.  And  if  every  busy  house- 
mother would  just  lie  down  one  hour  in  the 
middle  of  the  day,  or  retire  by  herself  one  hour 
every  afternoon  and  read  or  think  or  sleep  as 
she  chose,  she  would  live  longer  and  be  hap- 
pier for  the  experiment. 

Said  a  wise  physician  to  his  wife,  "My  dear, 
14 


Trustful  To-moekows 

there  is  one  thing  on  which  I  insist,  and  it  is  that 
you  take  the  hour  from  three  to  four  every  after- 
noon and  keep  it  for  your  own  needs.  Go  to 
your  own  room  and  shut  everybody  out.  I  shall 
not  intrude  upon  you ;  no  one  else  shall  be  per- 
mitted to  intrude  upon  you — friend,  servant,  or 
child.  Be  alone  then,  and  do  whatever  you 
please,  but  never  intermit  your  hour  of  entire 
freedom  and  rest."  "To  this  kind  provision 
for  my  health  and  comfort,"  said  the  wife,  long 
afterward,  "I  am  indebted  for  my  elasticity  of 
mind  and  body." 

I  am  not  sure  how  far  the  multiform  public 
activities  of  to-day  are  responsible  for  the  jaded 
looks  and  loss  of  repose  visible  in  some  of  our 
friends.  To  belong  to  a  woman's  club,  with  its 
agreeable  social  opportunities,  its  reading  and 
discussing  of  literary  papers,  and  its  frequent 
beneficent  efforts  beyond  its  doors,  is,  for  many 
women,  an  excellent  thing;  broadening  their 
horizon,  and  either  enlarging  their  knowledge 
of  current  events  or  refreshing  their  memories 
of  world  movements  in  the  past.  But  some 
women  belong  to  three,  five,  or  seven  clubs  si- 
multaneously;  others  are  taxed  by  an  excessive 

amount  of  church  work,  a  few  undertaking  and 
15 


Cheerful  To-days  and  • 

carrying  forward  that  which  should  be  the  task 
of  all.  As  repose  of  manner  is  hardly  consist- 
ent with  the  mental  state  which  knows  the  pres- 
sure of  haste,  and  of  too  many  conflicting  en- 
gagements, it  is  not  to  be  attained  by  her  who 
is  bound  by  too  strong  a  tether  to  boards,  asso- 
ciations and  clubs. 

May  I  repeat  for  you  a  beautiful  prayer,  writ- 
ten by  Eowland  Williams  ? 

*'0  God,  who  makest  cheerfulness  the  com- 
panion of  strength  but  apt  to  take  wings  in  time 
of  sorrow,  we  humbly  beseech  thee  if,  in  thy  sov- 
ereign wisdom,  thou  sendest  weakness  yet  for 
thy  mercy's  sake  deny  us  not  the  comfort  of 
patience.  Lay  not  more  upon  us,  0  Heavenly 
Father,  than  thou  wilt  enable  us  to  bear;  and, 
since  the  fretfulness  of  our  spirits  is  more  hurt- 
ful that  the  heaviness  of  our  burden,  grant  us 
that  heavenly  calmness  which  comes  of  owning 
thy  hand  in  all  things,  and  patience  in  t"he  trust 
that  thou  doest  all  things  well.     Amen." 

"Wherever  in  the  world  I  am, 

In  whatsoe'er  estate, 
I  have  a  fellowship  with  hearts 

To  keep  and  cultivate, 
A  work  of  lowly  love  to  do 
•>  For  the  Lord  on  whom  I  wait. 

16 


Trustful  To-moerows 

"I  ask  thee  for  the  daily  strength 

To  none  that  ask  denied, 
A  mind  to  blend  with  outward  life 

While  keeping  at  thy  side ; 
Content  to  fill  a  little  space 

If  thou  be  glorified. 

"There  are  briers  besetting  every  path 

That  call  for  patient  care ; 
There  is  a  cross  in  every  lot, 

And  need  for  earnest  prayer ; 
But  a  lowly  heart  that  leans  on  thee 

Is  happy  anywhere." 
17 


Cheebful  To-days  and 


CHAPTER  III 

When  the  Children  Are  Around  Us 

I  DO  not  think  life  holds  to  any  lips  a  sweeter 
cup,  more  honey-brimmed,  more  sparkling,  than 
that  the  mother  tastes  when  first  she  holds  her 
little  one  in  her  arms.  For  this  divine  draught 
of  pleasure  she  has  dared  the  uttermost  waves 
of  anguish,  has  fought  a  duel  with  death,  has 
plunged  into  depths  of  weakness  and  known 
mysterious  perils  which  only  motherhood  un- 
derstands. Yet  every  woman  who  has  ever  borne 
a  babe  will  tell  you  that  in  the  supreme  hour  of 
victory  and  joy  she  remembers  the  agony  no 
more;  it  is  blotted  out  by  the  flood  of  bliss  be- 
yond language  or  thought  to  describe.  She  and 
her  child,  bone  of  her  bone,  flesh  of  her  flesh, 
these  two — the  new  human  being  and  the 
mother  who  cradled  him  under  her  arms  before 
she  held  him  in  their  tender  circle — there  is  in 
all  the  world  no  bond  like  theirs;  there  is  no 
glory  of  happiness  which  equals  that  which 

comes  to  any  mother  with  any  baby. 
18 


Trustful  To-morrows 

And  yet  we  know  of  reluctant  maternity,  and 
we  constantly  see  women  refusing  alike  its  pen- 
alties and  its  rewards,  committing  sin  that 
they  may  evade  it,  declining  to  wear  the  most 
honorable  of  crowns  and  to  assume  the  most 
potent  of  scepters.  It  is  the  peculiar  loss  of 
some  women  that  they  weigh  in  the  balances  the 
inconveniences  and  burdens  of  motherhood  on 
the  one  hand,  and  its  royal  privileges  on  the 
other,  and  are  afraid,  or  unwilling,  or  dis- 
trustful, and  so  rob  themselves  of  their  most 
beautiful  right. 

There  are  childless  women  to  whom  God  has 
denied  the  boon  of  motherhood.  When  this  is 
his  will  it  is  to  be  accepted  without  repining, 
and  such  women  are  often  compassionate  and 
comprehending  toward  the  children  of  others; 
toward  the  orphan,  or  the  sick,  or  the  poor  who 
need  helpers.  Wives  there  are  who  deliberately 
choose  to  have  no  babes.  And  this  is  not  always 
from  selfish  motives,  sometimes  it  is  from  those 
of  a  high  and  conscientious  order  of  thought; 
they  fear  that  they  could  not  rightly  guide  lit- 
tle children.  As  the  years  pass,  when  old  age 
arrives,  the  childless  people  are  the  lonely  peo- 
ple, and  they  are  apt  to  realize  that  they  have 
19 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

lost  some  very  precious  things  from  life;  some 
wealth  which  they  might  have  had  but  which 
they  have  missed. 

If  one  baby  is  a  great  delight  then  how  much 
greater  is  a  full  nursery.  When  the  brood  is  all 
under  the  mother's  eye  and  hand  at  once  the 
care  may  be  incessant  yet  there  is  no  end  to  the 
satisfaction.  To  see  them  all  started  for  the 
day  clean  and  well  and  dressed  and  wholesome 
and  happy,  to  see  them  all  tucked  safe  and  cozy 
into  their  beds  at  night,  each  bairn  with  its 
prayers  said  and  its  story  of  the  day  told,  what 
can  be  more  thoroughly  filled  with  the  essence 
of  homely  content ! 

I  am  often  very  sorry  for  the  first  and  for 

the  only  child,  both  being  apt  to  receive  an  over 

share  of  discipline.      Not  invariably  is  it  the 

good  of  the  child  which  the  mother  seeks  when 

she  hedges  its  pathway  with  a  bristling  border 

of  prickly  "don'ts"  and  finds  herself  at  her  wit's 

end  to  devise  original  punishments.     We  are 

strangely  complex,  and  even  a  loving  mother 

may  occasionally  be  vain  and  may  reprove  and 

rebuke  her  child  rather  because  its  mistakes 

wound  her  vanity  than  because  she  is  honestly 

seeking  the  child's  benefit. 
20 


Tkustfdl  To-moreows 

In  child  nurture  perfect  candor  and  confi- 
dence between  mother  and  children  are  to  be 
sought  beyond  every  other  thing.  Spontaneity 
in  a  child  is  dwarfed  by  the  entrance  of  fear  into 
his  heart,  and  whatever  he  does  or  says  he 
should  not  be  afraid  to  let  mother  see  and  hear 
it.  Truth  exercised  toward  a  child,  the  keep- 
ing of  one's  word  absolutely,  the  observance  of 
one's  promises,  and  truth  maintained  in  the 
character,  in  the  child's  world  there  never  being 
admitted  a  lie — that  evil  growth — will  go  far  in 
preventing  a  child  from  falsity.  Never  ought 
we  to  doubt  our  little  one's  word.  However 
extraordinary  the  statement  made,  however  im- 
probable, I  prefer  to  accept  it  without  hesita- 
tion if  my  child  make  it,  remembering,  as  I  do, 
that  a  child  lives  in  a  wonder  world  of  fancy  and 
that  his  vocabulary  and  mine  are  often  different. 
To  doubt  a  child  when  others  are  present  is  as 
great  an  offense  as  to  give  the  lie  to  one  who  is 
grown  up;  greater,  indeed,  because  the  child  is 
defenseless  and  forbidden  to  resent  the  outrage. 

By  every  means  in  our  power  we  should  cul- 
tivate imagination  in  the  little  folk  around  us, 
for  later  on  this  gift  of  the  skies  will  assist 

them  in  understanding  God.     A  purely  literal 
8  21 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

mind  has  always  more  diflficulty  in  attaining 
to  faith  than  one  in  which  the  ideal  predomi- 
nates. No  sensible  mother  forgets  that  her  lit- 
tle boy  and  girl  play  every  day  in  fairyland,  and 
she  does  not  prohibit  them  from  hearing  fairy 
stories.  They  should  hear  the  dear  old  favor- 
ites, "Cinderella,"  "Jack  the  Giant  Killer," 
"Hop  o'  My  Thumb,"  and  all  the  rest,  and  on 
the  nursery  shelf  should  stand  the  books  of 
Hans  Andersen  and  the  brothers  Grimm,  and 
any  other  volumes  of  fairy  lore  which  the 
mother  may  approve.  Alternate  these  with 
Bible  stories,  so  that  ISToah,  Moses,  David,  Dan- 
iel, Euth,  Nehemiah  and  Esther  may  be  fa- 
miliar names  to  the  child,  and  their  lives  a  part 
of  his  mental  wealth,  and  you  cannot  go  astray 
in  beginning  their  education.  Long  before  a 
child  can  read  his  mind  should  be  well  stored 
with  folk  lore  and  Biblical  learning.  Poetry 
comes  next,  and  she  is  wise  who  recites  to  her 
children  songs  and  hymns  and  ballads  worth 
repeating,  filled  with  the  spirit  of  genuine  verse, 
while  the  memory  most  readily  receives  and 
most  strongly  retains  impressions. 

Obedience  is  a  corner  stone  of  character  build- 
ing, and  we  cannot  do  without  it  when  the  chil- 
22 


Trustful  To-morrows 

dren  are  about  us,  not  that  we  may  enforce  our 
own  will  but  that  they  may  learn  the  first  prin- 
ciples of  self-government.  Just  here  some 
mothers  and  fathers  blunder,  insisting  on  blind 
subservience  because  they  "say  so"  instead  of 
building  their  own  authority  on  that  of  the 
Lord.  A  little  child  is  not  a  brute  beast,  and 
even  brute  beasts  are  better  trained  when  their 
obedience  is  gained  by  unvarying  gentleness,  in 
accordance  with  the  laws  of  the  road,  than  when 
it  is  compelled  by  severity  and  apparent  caprice. 
A  dog  trained  by  patient  love  is  a  charming 
comrade ;  subdued  by  arbitrary  violence  he  is  a 
cringing  coward.  Fortunately,  few  mothers  in 
these  enlightened  days  believe  that  a  child's  will 
should  be  broken,  though  here  and  there  one 
finds  a  survivor  of  a  more  rigid  period  who  ex- 
pects to  have  an  issue  and  a  battle  royal,  or  sev- 
eral of  these,  before  the  poor  little  one  learns  to 
bow  to  the  fetich  of  implicit  obedience. 

For  its  own  sake  the  family  must  have  around 
it  the  safeguard  of  law.  Within  clearly  defined 
law  there  is  always  liberty  for  the  law-keeping. 
From  the  very  beginning,  by  gentle  inflexibility, 
the  loving  mother  will  direct  the  little  feet 

into  the  straight  path,  and  by  her  own  example 
23 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

will  show  them  how  simple  and  sweet  a  thing 
is  obedience.  Whenever  the  rule  of  the  home 
is  obedience  to  the  Heavenly  Father  the  chil- 
dren will  readily  fall  into  docility  towards  the 
earthly  parents. 

Our  children  unconsciously  reproduce  our 
tones,  our  gestures,  our  ways  of  thinking  and 
speaking.  Imitation,  voluntary  or  involuntary, 
crystallizes  into  habit,  and  habit  decides  our 
outward  semblance  to  the  world.  Take  the 
table,  for  instance.  One's  behavior  at  table 
shows  the  effect  of  good  breeding  almost  un- 
erringly. The  gently  bred  person  is  considerate 
of  others  at  the  board,  is  familiar  with  the  ac- 
cepted etiquette  of  the  knife,  fork,  and  spoon, 
eats  in  moderation  and  silently,  and  automatic- 
ally acknowledges  every  courtesy  with  an  unob- 
trusive word  of  thanks.  The  boor  violates 
every  precept  and  tramples  on  our  sense  of  the 
fitness  of  things ;  yet  he  may  be  a  man  of  kind 
impulses  and  sterling  integrity,  unfortunate  in 
having  in  early  youth  mingled  with  those  who 
were  ignorant  of  social  usages.  Constant  and 
unvarying  politeness  exercised  toward  children, 
as  well  as  exacted  from  them,  will  give  them  an 

ease  and  grace  of  bearing  which  will  stand  them 
24 


Trustful  To-moreows 

in  stead  when,  in  the  future,  they  are  no  longer 
under  the  safe  shelter  of  the  home  roof.  Never 
should  a  voice  be  raised  in  scolding  or  anger  in 
a  home.  Dr.  David  J.  Burrell  has  well  said  of 
home  that  it  is  neither  a  prison  nor  a  treadmill, 
that  it  is  not  a  place  for  mere  disciplinary  proc- 
esses, that  it  is  to  be,  as  nearly  as  possibly,  a 
little  heaven  on  earth — with  the  spirit  of  heaven 
reigning  in  it. 

One  of  the  happiest  conditions  of  childhood 
exists  in  families  where  much  gracious  hospi- 
tality is  part  of  the  household  routine.  Ian 
Maclaren  says,  "The  coming  of  guests  revives 
and  enriches  the  common  life,  for  each  has  his 
own  tale  to  tell."  The  preparation  of  the  guest 
chamber,  of  the  feast,  with  the  dainty  extra 
touches  in  linen  and  silver  and  the  setting  forth 
of  the  best  china,  the  unstinted  welcome,  the 
kindly  farewell,  are  elements  of  value  in  the 
children's  upbringing.  In  some  houses  com- 
pany is  regarded  as  an  intrusion,  and  dreaded, 
and  the  children  never  acquire  the  art  of  grace- 
ful entertaining;  in  others  guests  are  greeted 
with  gladness,  and  their  pleasant  presence  adds 
new  zest  to  the  ordinary  life,  and  here  the  chil- 
dren learn  freedom  and  unselfishness,  and  taste 
25 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

the  pure  joy  of  making  comfortable  and  at  home 
the  stranger  within  their  gates. 

Christina  Eossetti,  that  high  priestess  of  song 
whose  exalted  verse  often  soars  into  a  realm 
above  our  lower  world  and  seems  to  touch  the 
throne  of  God,  wrote  many  beautiful  prayers. 
One  of  these  is  especially  suitable  for  parents 
and  children: 

"Give,  I  pray  thee,  to  all  children  grace  rever- 
ently to  love  their  parents  and  lovingly  to  obey 
them.  Teach  us  all  that  filial  duty  never  ends 
or  lessens ;  and  bless  all  parents  in  their  children 
and  children  in  their  parents.  0  thou  in  whom 
the  fatherless  find  mercy,  make  all  orphans,  I 
beseech  thee,  loving  and  dutiful  unto  thee,  their 
true  Father.  Be  thy  will  their  law,  thy  house 
their  home,  thy  love  their  inheritance.  And, 
I  earnestly  pray  thee,  comfort  those  who  have 
lost  their  children,  giving  mothers  grace  to  be 
comforted  though  they  are  not;  and  grant  us 
all  faith  to  yield  our  dearest  treasures  unto  thee 
with  Joy  and  thanksgiving,  that  where,  with 
thee,  our  treasure  is  there  our  hearts  may  be 
also.  Thus  may  we  look  for  and  hasten  unto 
the  day  of  union  with  thee,  and  of  reunion. 

Amen.'* 

26 


Trustful  To-morrows 


CHAPTER  IV 

When  the  Young  People  Grow  Up 

When  the  young  people,  emerging  from  the 
chrysalis  of  childhood,  put  on  the  beautiful  gar- 
ments of  early  maturity  the  house  is  full  of  gay 
life  and  pleasure.  There  is  nothing  else  quite 
like  it.  The  coming  and  going  of  the  young 
men  who  are  at  college  or  in  business,  and  who 
are  eager  and  ardent,  enjoying,  aspiring,  build- 
ing for  the  future,  looking  out  from  their  plane 
of  strength  to  the  onward  march  of  the  days 
with  never  a  fear  nor  a  doubt,  and  the  girls,  so 
blooming,  so  sweet,  so  independent;  not  the 
fragile  timid  creatures  who  were  once  the 
poet's  and  the  romancer's  ideal  of  girlhood,  but 
at  once  refined  and  vigorous,  trained  mentally 
and  physically,  educated  along  lines  parallel 
with  their  brothers  and  fitted  to  be  good  com- 
rades for  good  men  on  the  road  of  life.  Who 
can  see  them  without  enthusiasm  and  thankful- 
ness ? 

To  the  parents,  not  yet  old,  who  gather  about 
27 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

them  a  home  bright  with  the  charm  of  well-bred 
and  affectionate  young  folk  this  period  of  their 
career  is  marked  with  a  red  letter.  Everything 
revolves  around  these  grown  children.  One 
must  be  allowed  to  go  abroad  to  pursue  a  longer 
course  of  study — in  Berlin,  or  Heidelberg,  or 
Paris — and,  though  the  strain  has  already  been, 
great,  somehow  father  and  mother  find  a  way  to 
help  their  lad  that  he  may  have  the  post-grad- 
uate advantages  on  which  his  soul  is  set.  An- 
othei*  has  resolved  to  study  art,  or  to  be  a  trained 
nurse,  and,  though  the  mother  has  been  fondly 
anticipating  the  time  when  her  daughter  shall 
again  be  her  daily  companion,  she  interposes  no 
obstacle.  Edith's  path  is  smoothed  for  her,  and 
she  goes  bravely  out  upon  it,  followed  by  her 
mother's  prayers  and  loving  thoughts.  What- 
ever the  young  people  wish  for,  in  the  usual 
order  of  things,  the  parents  endeavor  to  give 
them,  and  the  only  peril  is  that  the  average 
American  parent  shall  become  too  self-denying 
and  forget  to  consider  what  is  due  to  himself. 

In  the  household  which,  exceptionally  fav- 
ored, keeps  its  circle  for  some  years  unbroken, 
the  young  people  largely  control  the  social  life. 

"We  do  not  invite  our  ovni  friends  any  more," 
28 


Trustful  To-moerows 

said  a  mother ;  "all  summer  in  the  country  and 
all  winter  in  town  we  are  filling  the  house  with 
their  schoolmates  and  college  mates."  When 
school  and  college  are  over,  still  the  young  are 
in  the  ascendant,  and  too  often  the  mother  is 
gradually  crowded  out  of  her  own  proper  place 
— finding  herself  more  and  more  an  unimpor- 
tant figure,  secluded  in  her  room  or  seated  in 
her  rocking-chair  in  the  hack  parlor. 

Of  course,  when  this  happens,  the  mother  has 
herself  to  blame.  She  should  not  consent  to 
effacement,  nor  in  her  admiration  for  the  sons 
and  daughters  around  her  lose  sight  of  the  fact 
that  she  still  has  rights  and  should  be  honored 
and  considered  in  the  household.  Once  in  a 
while  the  young  people  should  be  left  to  take  the 
helm,  and  the  mother,  fitted  out  with  the  dainty 
wardrobe  and  the  new  shoes  and  gloves  which 
she  sometimes  foregoes  in  favor  of  her  girls, 
should  be  sent  away  for  an  outing — a  Journey 
with  her  husband  or  a  visit  to  her  own  girlhood's 
home.  From  such  an  experience  she  will  re- 
turn to  take  up  the  daily  duties  with  new  zest 
and  something  of  the  lost  delight  of  youth. 

Perhaps  the  most  important  feature  in  home 

economy,  when  voung  people  are  on  the  thresh- 
29 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

old  of  life,  is  the  deciding  on  what  they  are  to 
be  in  the  busy  activities  of  the  world.  Formerly 
Christian  parents  were  prone,  as  they  are  not 
always  now,  to  dedicate  a  son  to  the  ministry, 
or  a  daughter  to  the  mission  field.  Though,  if 
too  arbitrarily  insisted  upon,  such  pre-arrange- 
ment  of  a  child's  life  might  prove  a  great  error 
in  judgment,  yet  when  gifts  and  graces  accom- 
pany the  development  of  the  consecrated  one  it 
is  quite  possible  that  the  path  will  be  smoothed 
and  the  work  attract  the  worker.  But  too  much 
earthly  ambition  has  occasionally  entered  into 
even  so  sacred  a  covenant,  and  the  resultant 
disappointment  might  have  been  expected. 

A  father  may  naturally  desire  to  have  his  son 
take  up  his  own  business  or  profession,  and  it 
may  be  a  sore  trial  to  him  to  discover  that  the 
boy's  bent  is  in  another  direction  and  that  he 
cannot  fit  himself  into  the  waiting  niche.  When 
the  day  arrives  in  which  serious  work  must  be 
undertaken,  and  the  youth  must  put  his  own 
hand  to  the  plough,  parents  may  give  judicious 
and  loving  counsel,  but  their  'wiser  part,  having 
done  this,  is  to  stand  aside  and  allow  freedom 
of  choice  to  the  new  comer  on  the  stage.     An 

artist  cannot  make  a  successful  merchant,  a 
30 


Trustful  To-morrows 

merchant  may  not  be  a  writer  of  books.  The 
thing  to  comprehend  is  that  all  true  work,  un- 
dertaken in  the  right  spirit,  is  honorable  if  done 
heartily,  as  unto  the  Lord. 

Inevitable  changes  are  foreshadowed  in  the 
happy  days  when  the  young  people  grow  up. 
Lovers  cross  the  old  home  threshold,  and,  while 
still  the  boys  and  girls  seem  to  the  parents  but 
children,  lo !  they  are  finding  their  mates  and 
beginning  a  new  life  of  their  own.  The  longer 
period  of  school  and  college  work  pushes  mar- 
riage a  little  further  on  than  was  common  in  a 
not  remote  past,  but  so  long  as  youth  and  health 
and  goodness  remain  in  the  world  love  will  rule 
it ;  and  it  is  a  beautiful  and  appropriate  conclu- 
sion to  the  preparatory  phases  of  the  individual 
when  he  becomes  the  wooer,  or  she  the  wooed. 

Part  of  a  mother's  obligation  should  be  to 
make  ready  her  girls  and  boys  for  the  home 
keeping  of  days  to  come.  When  we  indulge  our 
young  people  in  selfishness,  through  our  own 
over  fondness  or  over  tendency  to  self-abnega- 
tion, we  are  rendering  them  distinctly  unfit  to 
be  the  custodians  of  others'  happiness  when  they 
are  beyond  our  hand.     I  do  not  think  that  a 

boy  is  less  manly  for  knowing  how  to  help  his 
31 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

mother  with  her  peculiarly  feminine  tasks. 
Why  should  not  a  boy  be  allowed  to  aid  in  wash- 
ing dishes,  in  ironing,  in  cooking,  and  in  sweep- 
ing, even  in  mending,  and  in  stitching  on  the 
machine  ?  Acquaintance  with  these  homely  ac- 
complishments is  highly  valued  in,  for  instance, 
the  life  of  a  camp,  and  the  man  who  is  deft  and 
skilled  in  these  arts,  which  make  daily  living 
comfortable,  is  popular  beyond  his  fellows.  A 
husband  with  some  practical  knowledge  of 
housewifery  will  understand  how  much  is  de- 
manded of  his  wife,  and  will  be  able  to  sympa- 
thize with  her  in  the  pressure  of  her  common 
routine.  A  boy  accustomed  to  assist  his  mother 
and  the  girls  will  not  hesitate  to  put  his  shoul- 
der to  the  wheel  when  it  is  his  wife  who  requires 
his  timely  aid. 

Equally,  a  girl  should  become  familiar  with 
the  uses  of  tools,  know  how  to  drive  a  nail,  and 
to  turn  a  screw;  if  she  live  in  the  country,  be 
quite  independent  of  help  as  to  harnessing  her 
horse,  or  saddling  her  pony,  and  in  every  respect 
should  be  placed  on  a  plane  where  she  may  be  a 
comrade  and  friend  to  her  brothers,  and,  by  and 
by,  everything  his  heart  can  wish  to  him  whom 

she  chooses  out  of  the  whole  world  to  be  her  own. 
32 


■    Trustful  To-moeeows 

When  the  hour  of  choosing  is  reached  the 
mother  and  father  are  very  deeply  concerned, 
and  it  is  not  strange  that  they  look  with  yearn- 
ing and  anxious  eyes  on  those  whom  their  chil- 
dren are  henceforth  to  hold  in  the  closest  and 
most  indissoluble  relationship.  Marriage  is  too 
solemn,  too  holy  a  thing,  to  be  entered  upon 
without  a  comprehension  of  all  it  involves,  and 
to  young  people,  determined  upon  the  going  out 
from  the  old  life  and  into  the  new,  it  should  be 
sacramental  in  character.  Of  course,  parents 
may  be  prejudiced,  and  very  happy  unions  have 
existed  which  were  made  in  opposition  to  pa- 
rental counsel;  yet  when  there  is  opposition  or 
hostility  is  it  not  best  for  the  young  people  to 
wait  a  little  time  before  they  take  the  irrevocable 
step  ?  Also,  should  they  not  remind  themselves 
that,  in  marriage,  happiness  is  not  the  only  goal 
to  be  sought?  Peopb  marry  that  they  may 
help  one  another,  that  they  may  complement 
one  another's  deficiencies,  that  they  may  take 
part  in  God's  work  in  his  world.  What  shall 
be  the  style  of  Christian  living  in  the  next 
thirty  or  forty  years  ?     Only  our  young  people 

can  decide  and  answer  this  question. 
33 


Cheerful  To-days  and 


CHAPTER  V 
Home  Reading 

"The  pleasantest  memory  of  my  childhood," 
said  a  clever  and  brilliant  man,  "is  the  picture 
which  I  can  still  see,  when  I  close  my  eyes,  of 
the  family  group  on  the  long  winter  evenings. 
We  lived  in  New  Hampshire,  where  the  cold 
begins  early  and  lingers  late,  and  we  were  some- 
times snow-bound  for  months,  or  nearly  so, 
when  the  great  drifts  hemmed  the  homestead 
in,  and  we  were  dependent  on  ourselves  for 
society  with  little  help  from  neighbors — ^who, 
two  or  three  miles  away,  were  also  in  a  state  of 
siege.  While  frugality  was  studied,  and  our 
parents  made  the  most  of  every  dollar,  there 
was  a  liberal  expenditure  for  mental  culture, 
and  we  had  a  goodly  number  of  books  on  our 
shelves  and  several  periodicals  which  brought  to 
us  the  news  of  the  great  world  and  kept  us  in 
touch  with  all  that  went  on  beyond  our  moun- 
tain-circled borders. 

"At  evening,  when  the  day's  work  was  done, 

we  gathered  around  the  lamp,  and  father  or 
34 


Trustful  To-moerows 

Jennie,  my  eldest  sister,  read  aloud  while  our 
mother  made  progress  with  her  weekly  mend- 
ing and  the  rest  of  us  listened  with  eager  in- 
terest. In  a  single  winter  we  would  read  thus 
several  volumes  of  history  and  fiction,  biography 
or  poetry,  and  the  great  names  of  literature  were 
familiar  on  our  lips." 

For  home  reading,  as  considered  distinctly 
from  individual  reading,  a  book  should  be  one 
of  continuous  sequence,  its  subject  sufficiently 
large  to  occupy  successive  days  and  weeks,  or 
else  it  should  consist  of  short  essays,  or  stories, 
complete  in  themselves  and  easily  finished  at  a 
sitting.  Where  people  are  of  different  ages  and 
at  different  stages  of  advancement  all  cannot 
equally  be  absorbed  in  a  volume  requiring 
thoughtful  attention,  and  to  be  grasped  only  by 
those  whose  previous  studies  have  prepared 
them  to  handle  it.  For  this  reason,  if  a  history 
is  selected  for  reading  aloud  it  should  be  narra- 
tive and  descriptive,  and  popular  in  style  rather 
than  philosophical.  A  good  plan  is  to  keep  for 
reference  in  a  convenient  place  some  school  text- 
book to  which  one  may  turn  for  dates  and  names 
and  the  refreshment  of  recollection  about  bat- 
tles and  other  pivotal  events.  If  poetry  is  read, 
35 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

let  it  be  of  the  ballad  or  lyric  order ;  few  young 
people  would  be  able  to  listen  night  after  night, 
even  if  the  selection  were  otherwise  a  judicious 
one,  to  Browning's  massive  and  magnificent 
poem,  "The  Eing  and  the  Book."  But  "Mar- 
mion,"  or  "The  Lady  of  the  Lake,"  or  "Lord  of 
tlie  Isles,"  could  be  read  in  a  single  evening,  as 
could  Kipling's  "Recessional,"  and  a  choice  list 
of  other  fine  lyrics  from  this  wonderfully  vital 
author  of  to-day.  "Herve  Rial,"  "The  Ride 
from  Ghent  to  Aix,"  Robert  Buchanan's  "Ballad 
of  Judas  Iscariot,'^  some  ringing  verse  of 
Whittier's  or  linked  sweetness  of  Longfellow's 
would  profitably  fill  charmed  evenings  beside 
'the  glowing  hearth. 

Discussion  of  what  is  read  should  be  encour- 
aged, and  where  a  family  undertakes  one  of  the 
excellent  prescribed  courses  which  are  to  be 
found,  embodying  the  results  of  scholarship  and 
investigation,  by  all  means  let  the  listeners  talk 
freely,  and  ask  questions  concerning  what  they 
do  not  fully  comprehend.  Even  the  younger 
ones  by  degrees  find  their  vocabulary  enlarged, 
and  grow  familiar  with  rich  phrases  and  ornate 
words  as  they  sit  with  their  elders  and  partake 

of  a  feast  spread  for  all. 

36 


Beside  the  Glowing  Hearth." 


Trustful  To-moerows 

In  the  home  library  there  should  be  as  of 
course  a  dictionary,  and  to  this  everyone  should 
turn  when  there  is  uncertainty  either  as  to  the 
precise  meaning  of  a  word,  its  derivation,  or  its 
pronunciation.  The  best  lexicons  give  many 
examples  of  the  uses  of  words,  culled  from 
standard  literature,  and  one  might  almost  be- 
come learned  who  should  carefully  and  con- 
scientiously study  a  dictionary.  An  encyclo- 
pedia is  another  admirable  addition  to  home 
wealth,  and  it  were  worth  while  to  practice  a 
thousand  small  economies  that  a  stately  row  of 
such  useful  volumes  might  be  always  close  at 
hand. 

In  the  larger  towns  and  cities,  where  access  to 
a  public  library  is  not  difficult,  the  family  needs 
to  spend  less  in  the  line  of  books  of  reference, 
but  if  the  home  be  in  the  country  they  are 
indispensable.  And  one  enjoys  seeing  these 
friendly  companions  and  guides  in  the  house- 
hold room,  where  they  may  be  sought  without 
ceremony,  and  where  they  may  act  as  umpires 
in  settling  any  mooted  point  which  may  arise. 

An  atlas  should  be  in  the  possession  of  the 

family,  and  the  habit  of  consulting  it  should 

be  encouraged.     Our  ideas  of  geography  grow 
4  37 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

hazy  and  vague  if  we  do  not  habitually  have  re- 
course to  the  map,  and  though  we  may  stay  at 
home,  and  seldom  visit  places  distant  from  our 
own  abodes,  it  is  as  well  that  we  should  know 
routes  of  travel,  waterways  of  ocean  and  river, 
and  steam  communications  by  land,  that  when 
our  foreign  missionaries  and  our  home  mission- 
aries go  to  their  points  of  labor  we  shall  be  able 
to  follow  and  to  think  of  them  with  the  definite- 
ness  which  comes  of  assured  knowledge.  One 
cannot  read  the  daily  or  weekly  newspaper  to- 
day without  a  frequent  necessity  of  referring  to 
the  map,  for  history  is  making  constantly,  great 
problems  are  confronting  the  nation,  maps  are 
changing  with  altered  political  relations,  and 
every  indication  points  to  the  speedy  coming  in 
of  the  Kingdom  of  God. 

I  met  a  woman  one  autumn  day  in  an  isolated 
farmhouse  six  miles  from  the  great  centers  of 
commerce.  In  her  whole  life  of  nearly  sixty 
years  she  had  not  been  two  hundred  miles  from 
home,  and  of  fashion  and  its  follies,  worldly 
splendor  and  its  luxuries,  she  was  entirely  ig- 
norant. But  on  her  sitting  room  table  were 
several  missionary  magazines,  and  beside  them 

just  what  I  am  now  recommending,  an  admira- 
38 


Trustful  To-moerows 

ble  atlas,  revised  and  brought  up  to  date,  and  1 
was  not  surprised  to  discover,  in  this  gentle  and 
home-keeping  matron,  one  who  had  kept  pace 
■with  the  world  in  its  progress,  who  was  bright, 
animated,  and  keen  of  wit  and  speech,  and  who 
both  prayed  for  Christ's  cause  and  gave  to  it 
generously  from  her  store. 

In  the  purchase  of  books  for  a  home  library 
care  should  be  exercised  as  to  selecting  the 
permanently  valuable  rather  than  the  merely 
ephemeral  and  transient.  Among  those  vol- 
umes which  should  have  a  place  in  the  former 
classification  are  a  Life  of  Christ,  and  when  one 
is  in  doubt  to  whom  to  apply  for  counsel,  as  to 
which  of  the  many  in  the  market  is  the  best, 
the  natural  and  sensible  course  is  to  ask  the  pas- 
tor of  your  church  or  the  teacher  of  your  Bible 
class.  Our  Lord's  life  is  given  in  all  fullness 
in  the  Scriptures;  its  first  premonitions  and 
foreshadowings  are  in  the  Old  Testament,  and 
the  four  gospels  are  four  pictures  of  its  beauti- 
ful and  matchless  progress  from  Bethlehem  to 
Calvary.  Beyond  the  gospels  no  one  is  actu- 
ally obliged  to  go  for  the  story  of  the  Master, 
but  modern  research  and  devout  scholarship 

have  thrown  a  clear  illumination  on  the  times 
39 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

of  our  Lord,  and  on  the  history  of  nations  exist- 
ing and  ruling  when  the  Divine  Man  walked  up 
and  down  the  hills  and  dales  of  Palestine.  The 
Christian  should  seek  to  be  informed  of  all 
which  reveals  the  circumstances  of  the  earthly 
life  of  Him  whose  name  he  bears,  and  whose 
will  is  his  law  as  he  goes  about  the  business  of 
his  own  days. 

Shakespeare,  the  Bible,  the  Pilgrim's  Prog- 
ress, with  nothing  else  besides,  would  abundant- 
ly fill  the  minds  and  hearts  of  those  who  should 
make  them  a  daily  study.  The  almost  miracu- 
lous human  insight  and  kaleidoscopic  variety 
of  the  great  dramatist  are  sufficient  to  fill  many 
libraries,  and  phrases  from  Shakespeare  are 
coin  current  in  our  common  conversation.  The 
marvelous  idyl  of  Bunyan  is  not  so  beloved  and 
studied  by  our  young  folk  as  it  was  by  their  pre- 
decessors ;  but  one  needs  only  to  introduce  Bun- 
yan in  a  home  or  a  Sunday  school  to  make  him 
immediately  a  chief  favorite,  and  we  should  not 
be  at  a  loss  when  we  hear  reference  made  to 
Christian,  to  Hopeful,  and  to  Faithful;  to 
Christiana,  her  children,  and  Mercy;  to  Pru- 
dence, Piety,  and  Charity;  Mr.  Eeady-to-Halt, 

Mr.  Valiant-for-Truth,  Mr.  Standfast,  and  Old 
40 


Tbustful  To-morrows 

Father  Honest.     The  genius  of  John  Bunyan 

is  a  lamp  lighted  for  the  ages,  and  his  spell  is 

as  potent  now  as  when  first  his  immortal  work 

was  produced  in  the  grim  loneliness  of  Bedford 

Jail. 

As  for  the  Word  of  God,  it  is  for  private  study 

not  only,  but  always  and  everywhere  for  reading 

aloud  in  the  home.     I  would  have  it  read  in 

regular  order,  from  Genesis  to  Revelation,  the 

family  reading  aloud,  each  two  verses,  from  the 

father  down  to  the  wee  tot  whose  dimpled  finger 

traces  the  text  while  her  lisping  voice  repeats 

the  words  after  her  mother.     By  the  simple 

method  of  reading  the  Bible  aloud  at  daily 

family  prayer,  we  shall  have  a  generation  of 

church-going,   God-fearing,   Sabbath-observing 

people  instead  of  those  who  are  ready,  in  a  mad 

pursuit  of  wealth  or  of  pleasure,  to  forget  God, 

and  turn  their  backs  on  all  which  has  made  our 

country  strong,  prosperous,  and  free. 
41 


Cheeeful  To-days  and 


CHAPTER  VI 
Thrift  for  the  Rainy  Day 

Thrift,  a  homely  virtue  which  goes  about 
on  sturdy  feet  and  makes  no  particular  stir,  is 
an  eminently  respectable  figure  though  not  a 
specially  picturesque  one.  Thrift  implies  fore- 
sight, makes  provision  for  the  future,  and  is  not 
resolved  on  the  indulgence  of  the  present  at  the 
expense  of  suffering  to  come.  Far  removed 
from  the  miserly  quality  which  hoards  simply 
for  the  sake  of  accumulation,  thrift  walks  hand 
in  hand  with  contentment,  with  ease  of  mind, 
and  with  dignified  self-respect. 

Pay  day,  however  postponed,  arrives  as  cer- 
tainly as  the  rising  of  to-morrow's  sun ;  and  the 
thoughtlessly  improvident  person,  who  not  only 
spends  as  he  goes  but  spends  more  than  he  earns, 
has  pay  day  to  reckon  with,  and  too  often  meets 
it  unprepared.  Then,  around  one's  neck,  weigh- 
ing one  to  the  earth,  debt  hangs  like  a  millstone, 

and  health,  strength,  enthusiasm,  gayety,  and 
42 


Trustful  To-morrows 

joy  in  life  vanish  under  its  relentless  pressure. 
As  well  may  one  drag  a  ball  and  chain  around 
one's  feet  as  walk  through  life  fettered  by  the 
clog  of  debt,  which  seems  ever  larger  and  less 
manageable  the  longer  it  is  carried. 

Cheerful  days  are  not  compatible  with  obliga- 
tions greater  than  one's  financial  ability  to  bear, 
and  as  for  sleep,  that  vanishes  from  the  pillow  of 
the  reckless  spendthrift  whose  chronic  condi- 
tion is  that  of  the  debtor.  There  may  be  an 
abyss  of  degradation  in  which  one  is  careless  of 
debt  and  dishonor  alike,  but  of  this  I  am  not 
speaking;  for  there  is  little  difference  between 
a  debtor  who  ignores  his  debts  and  a  thief  who 
deliberatel)''  steals  his  neighbor's  goods.  The 
one  is  as  really  culpable  as  the  other.  The 
honest  man  or  woman  faced  by  debts  which 
cannot  be  settled,  however  the  situation  has  been 
brought  into  existence,  must  expect  nights  of 
misery  and  torture ;  for  at  midnight  and  at  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning  specters  of  fear  and 
anxiety  haunt  the  spirit  and  rear  ghostly  forms 
in  the  pathway  of  the  oncoming  years. 

Among  the  niunerous  causes  which  assist  in 

bringing  the  wretchedness  of  poverty  on  the 

head  of  the  bad  manager  the  most  ordinary  and 
43 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

inevitable  is  a  habit  of  living  beyond  one's  in- 
come. Sometimes  the  scale  of  expenditure  is 
too  liberal,  and  the  whole  routine  of  life,  so  to 
speak,  its  running  schedule,  needs  immediate 
alteration  and  rearrangement.  The  family  live 
in  too  large  a  house  or  in  too  costly  a  neighbor- 
hood, or  are  too  far  remote  from  the  scene  of 
their  daily  labors.  Perhaps  the  father  is  of  a 
sanguine  temperament  and  in  his  happy  op- 
timism is  buoyant  and  heedless,  allowing  his 
wife  and  children  every  pleasure  of  the  moment 
and  living  up  to  the  full  extent  of  his  income, 
with  no  margin  for  extra  expenses,  so  that  when 
these  come  he  is  swamped,  and  plunged  into 
difficulties  from  which  he  cannot  easily  extricate 
himself.  In  family  life  there  are  years  of  ex- 
traordinary costliness — as  M^hen  several  young 
people  are  growing  up  together  and  their  educa- 
tion must  be  met,  or  when  a  prolonged  season  of 
illness  or  an  accident  and  consequent  surgical 
treatment  in  hospital  taxes  the  family  purse,  or 
when  for  some  good  reason  a  long  and  expensive 
journey  must  be  taken.  The  thrifty  person 
keeps  contingencies  in  view  and  has  a  margin 
on  which  to  draw — a  sum  in  bank,  or  other  re- 
source which  is  available — while  his  opposite, 
44 


Teustful  To-moekows 

having  lived  too  generously,  is  forced  to  over- 
work or  to  anticipate  future  earnings.  Both 
of  these  courses  are  unfortunate  and  apt  to  be 
disastrous. 

Excessive  devotion  to  dress  is  a  temptation  to 
some  temperaments,  and,  if  yielded  to,  leads  to 
an  aftermath  of  mortification.  Furs,  silks,  vel- 
vets, laces  and  jewels,  the  accompaniments  of 
wealth,  should  be  very  moderately  used  by  those 
whose  income  is  limited.  A  young  woman,  for 
example,  earning  her  own  livelihood  as  a  ste- 
nographer at  fifteen  dollars  a  week,  should  not 
wear  a  jacket  of  sealskin  nor  buy  gems  of  price. 
Not  only  are  these  articles  of  elegance  and 
beauty  beyond  the  limitations  of  her  pocket- 
book  but  they  are  in  the  worst  possible  taste  and 
expose  her  to  unkind  criticism.  Costly  dress 
is  not  needful  for  the  ordinary  workingman  or 
woman,  who  may  be  neat  and  well  clad  without 
extravagance,  if  willing  to  study  the  science  of 
economical  administration  of  money. 

Whatever  the  reason  of  financial  trouble  may 

be  one  duty  is  self-evident,  and  this  is  to  stop 

the  leak.     Ascertain  where  it  is  and  at  once 

retrieve  the  position  by  retrenchment.    Practice 

the  fine  art  of  doing  without ;  learn  to  say  No  to 
45 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

the  impulse  which  urges  you  to  buy  what  you 
cannot  afford,  or  which  inclines  you  to  the  reck- 
lessness of  buying  on  credit.  No  one  should 
ever  have  a  monthly  account  at  a  store,  unless 
he  has  a  large  and  steady  income,  for  there  is 
nothing  more  deceptive  than  the  persuasion  that 
thirty  or  sixty  days  hence  one  can  pay  with  ease 
the  reckoning  which  it  is  impracticable  to  settle 
to-day.  The  habit  of  buying  for  cash  only  is  a 
check  upon  extravagance  which  acts  as  a  useful 
brake  with  most  people. 

A  great  deal  of  money  is  wasted  by  those  who 
despise  very  small  savings.  In  town,  for  in- 
stance, persons  who  could  walk  on  their  various 
errands,  and  to  whom  walking  would  probably 
be  a  benefit,  take  the  trolley  or  the  horse-car, 
pay  five  cents  for  a  short  ride,  and  at  the  day's 
end,  or  the  week's  end,  have  spent  dollars  in  this 
way — dollars  which  could  have  been  put  to  a 
much  better  use.  Young  girls  spend  more 
money  than  they  like  to  think  of  in  candy  and 
in  little  accessories  of  dress  which  might  be  dis- 
pensed with.  A  penny  saved  is  a  penny  earned, 
and  they  who  look  well  to  tiny  savings  will  have 
large  amounts  to  their  credit  in  the  long  run. 

Thrift  for  the  rainy  day  means  looking  out 
46 


Teustful  To-moeeows 

for  old  age.  Nothing  is  sadder  than  the  spec- 
tacle of  one  who  has  passed  the  halcyon  time  of 
youth  and  the  hounds  of  middle  age,  whose 
working  time  is  over  and  whose  fund  of  vigor  is 
exhausted,  and  to  whom  there  has  come  a 
lonely  period  when  kindred  and  friends  are  few. 
To  be  old  and  dependent  on  charity,  or  old  and 
grudgingly  sheltered  and  cared  for  by  those 
whose  conduct  shows  that  one  is  in  the  way,  is  a 
very  sorrowful  lot.  To  lay  up  for  the  time  of 
fragile  health  and  of  waning  powers  is  a  duty 
one  should  recognize  before  strength  and  cour- 
age and  opportunity  are  gone. 

Undoubtedly  it  requires  an  effort,  and  bravery 
almost  heroic,  to  retrieve  one's  errors,  to  leave 
the  large  and  stately  mansion  and  live  in  the 
cottage  or  to  change  the  single  dwelling  for  the 
narrow  flat ;  but  of  one  thing  most  of  us  may  be 
assured :  the  public  is  entirely  without  concern 
about  the  economies  of  private  individuals  and 
families,  and  one's  own  friends  will  care  for  one 
as  truly  when  the  manner  of  living  is  plain  as 
when  it  is  showy.  Ostentation  may  invite 
censure,  but  unobtrusive  simplicity  wins  the 
suffrages  of  all  wise  judges.     N"o  friends  are 

ever  lost  through  the  accidents  of  wealth  or  the 
47 


Cheerful  Todays  and 

reverse,  and  our  neighbors  and  acquaintances 
are  seldom  very  much  occupied  about  the  exter- 
nals of  our  lives — the  way  we  dress,  the  houses 
we  reside  in,  and  whether  we  travel  in  the  draw- 
ing-room car  or  modestly  take  our  seats  in  the 
day  coach. 

But  "men  will  praise  thee  when  thou  doest 
well  for  thyself"  was  said  by  one  of  old,  and 
is  still  true  in  these  modern  days  and  in  the 
end  of  the  nineteenth  century.  The  thrifty 
worker  may  in  time  become  the  genial  person  of 
leisure ;  the  idler  knowing  nothing  of  prevision 
may  never  have  the  wherewithal  for  leisurely 
enjo3Tiient. 

Having  said  this,  I  must  add  that  the  truest 

thrift,  to  put  it  on  the  very  lowest  plane,  accords 

to  the  Lord  his  share  in  the  profits  of  our  trade, 

or  profession,  or  business.     Whether  or  not  we 

adhere  to  the  old  Hebrew  rule  and  devote  the 

tenth  part  of  our  income  to  the  Lord,  we  should 

systematically  and  gratefully  appropriate  some 

part,  going  over  our  assets  and  receipts,  and 

intelligently  assigning  to  the  uses  of  charity  and 

religion  our  offering  In  His  ISTame.     Whosoever 

does  this,  praying  for  a  blessing  on  the  willing 

sacrifice,  will  never  miss  the  satisfaction  of  re- 
48 


Tbustful  To-moeeows 

ward  given  back  in  rich  measure ;  pressed  down 
and  running  over. 

"There  was  one  year/'  said  a  friend,  "when 
John  and  I  decided  that  we  were  too  poor  to  give 
the  Lord  his  tenth.  Everything  we  touched 
that  year  failed,  and  discouragement  met  us  at 
every  turn.  We  have  never  dared  since,  remem- 
bering that  experience  and  its  bitterness,  to  de- 
fraud the  Lord  of  his  share  in  our  substance." 

Over  the  door  of  one  of  our  world-famous 
philanthropists  is  engraved  this  legend:  "To- 
day is  my  ain."  For  the  rainy  day  not  yet 
dawning  in  the  gray  east,  for  the  year  of  the 
laggard  step  and  the  aching  head,  for  the  uncer- 
tainties of  all  the  to-morrows,  it  is  ours  to  pro- 
vide by  conscientioiTS  and  diligent  thrift  to-day ; 
for  to-day  is  "oor  ain,"  and  God's. 

It  isn't  worth  while  to  fret,  dear. 

To  walk  as  behind  a  hearse ; 
No  matter  how  vexing  things  may  be 

They  easily  might  be  worse ; 
And  the  time  you  spend  complaining. 

And  groaning  about  the  load, 
Would  better  be  given  to  going  on 

And  pressing  along  the  road. 

I've  trodden  the  hill  myself,  dear — 
'Tis  the  tripping  tongue  can  preach, 

But  though  silence  is  sometimes  golden,  child, 
As  oft  there  is  grace  in  speech — 
49 


Cheebful  To-days  and 

And  I  Bee,  from  my  higher  level, 
'Tis  less  the  path  than  the  pace 

That  wearies  the  back,  and  dims  the  eye, 
And  writes  the  lines  on  the  face. 

There  are  vexing  cares  enough,  dear, 

And  to  spare,  when  all  is  told ; 
And  love  must  mourn  its  losses, 

And  the  cheek's  soft  bloom  grow  old ; 
But  the  spell  of  the  craven  spirit 

Turns  blessing  into  curse, 
While  the  bold  heart  meets  the  trouble 

That  easily  might  be  worse. 

So  smile  at  each  disaster 

That  will  presently  pass  away. 
And  believe  a  bright  to-morrow 

Will  follow  the  dark  to-day. 
There's  nothing  gained  by  fretting; 

Gather  your  strength  anew. 
And  step  by  step  go  onward,  dear, 

Let  the  skies  be  gray  or  blue. 
50 


Teustful  To-moreows 


CHAPTER  VII 
Days  of  Illness 

Can  days  of  pain  and  weariness,  of  tossing 
to  and  fro  in  fever  and  sinking  into  depths  of 
weakness,  be  accounted  days  of  cheer  ?  May  we 
preserve  not  merely  calmness,  but  the  sweetness 
of  hope  and  the  possibility  of  joy,  in  circum- 
stances alien  to  everything  except  depression? 
When  the  body  is  on  the  rack  may  the  soul 
triumph,  maintaining  itself  in  strength  and 
heroism  ? 

Yes,  the  old  word  of  promise  still  abides: 

"Thou  wilt  keep  him  in  perfect  peace,  whose 

mind  is  stayed  on  thee :  because  he  trusteth  in 

thee.'*     The  soul  does  not  maintain  itself  but 

God  sustains  it,  and  the  keeping  is  as  that  of  the 

armed  sentinel  who  paces  to  and  fro  before  the 

gate  and  warns  off  any  stealthy  invader.     In 

times  of  special  need  our  Lord  is  specially  near 

to  his  people,  and  so  it  comes  to  pass  that  many 

a  sick  chamber  is  as  the  house  of  Obed-edom  in 

which  the  ark  abode. 

51 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

Said  one  who  had  known  keen  suffering, 
"The  sickness  of  the  last  week  was  fine  medi- 
cine; pain  disintegrated  tlie  spirit  or  became 
spiritual.  I  rose.  I  felt  that  I  had  given  to 
God  more  perhaps  than  an  angel  could — had 
promised  him  in  youth  that  to  be  a  blot  on  this 
world,  at  his  command,  would  be  acceptable. 
Constantly  offer  myself  to  continue  the  ob- 
scurest and  loneliest  thing  ever  heard  of — with 
one  proviso :  his  agency.  Yes,  love  thee  and  all 
thou  dost,  while  thou  sheddest  frost  and  dark- 
ness on  every  path  of  mine." 

Once  the  lesson  has  been  learned  of  complete 
submission  to  the  Divine  will  that  will  becomes 
a  pillow  for  the  head  and  a  comfort  for  the 
heart.  There  is  no  fretfulness,  no  resistance; 
only  serene  acquiescence,  and  then  "He  giveth 
songs  in  the  night.'* 

"I  praise  thee  while  my  days  go  on, 

I  love  thee  while  my  days  go  on  ; 

Through  dark  and  dearth,  through  fire  and  frost. 
With  emptied  arms  and  treasure  lost, 

I  thank  thee  while  my  days  go  on." 

I  shall  never  forget  the  look  of  ecstasy  on  the 

worn,  sweet,  illumined  countenance  of  a  beloved 

one  who  was  passing  through  deep  waters,  whose 
52 


Tedstful  To-moreows 

fragile  form  was  rent  with  anguish,  and  who 
knew,  morning  by  morning,  that  relentlessly 
and  inevitably  death  was  encroaching  upon  life. 
I  entered  her  chamber  in  the  early  dawn;  she 
greeted  me  with  her  rare  and  beautiful  smile. 
"Ah !"  she  said,  "my  Lord  has  so  revealed  him- 
self to  me  that  I  have  no  fear,  no  solicitude, 
nothing  but  gladness  in  waiting  for  him.  I 
can  trust  him  for  everything,  even  for  the  lit- 
tle children  I  am  leaving  to  be  fatherless  and 
motherless  in  the  world."  Days  and  weeks 
wore  slowly  on  before  the  silver  cord  was 
loosed,  but  the  rapture  only  deepened  as  the 
earthly  faded  and  the  heavenly  drew  near.  To 
all  who  came  within  her  sphere  that  room  of 
mortal  agony  was  bright  with  a  light  which  fell 
from  the  jasper  walls. 

It  is  not  alone  when  death  is  imminent  that 
the  dear  Lord  can  give  us  supremacy  over  pain. 
To  one  of  his  children  it  has  been  appointed  to 
dwell  for  many  years  under  the  shadow  of  a 
malady  which  binds  her  to  her  couch,  hand  and 
foot.  She  lies  there  helpless  as  a  log,  lifted, 
turned,  carried  sometimes  to  another  room, 
never  able  to  perform  one  bodily  office  for  hus- 
band or  child ;  always  being  more  or  less  under 
5  53 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

the  bondage  of  a  grinding  poignant  pain. 
There  are  hard  days,  and,  mercifully,  there  are 
easy  days,  but  through  them  all  the  invalid's 
courage  and  cheer  is  the  radiant  fact  which 
keeps  the  home  a  cheerful  habitation  and  not  a 
gloomy  cell.  A  friend  coming  in  is  welcomed 
with  blithe  word  and  happy  look;  the  husband 
hears  never  a  murmur ;  the  son,  through  child- 
hood, youth,  and  in  early  manhood,  has  had  his 
mother  for  confidante  and  counselor,  his  educa- 
tion, his  profession,  his  plans  all  part  of  her 
thought  and  part  of  her  work,  intelligently 
shared  as  to  all  that  has  concerned  his  develop- 
ment. The  house,  smoothly  carried  on  in  its 
domestic  routine,  has  known  her  guiding  brain 
if  not  her  guiding  hand,  and  her  years  of  illness 
have  been  truly  years  of  glory  and  victory. 

Such  an  experience  would  be  impossible  with- 
out Christian  faith,  for  it  is  forever  true  that 

"The  healing  of  the  seamless  dress 

Is  by  our  beds  of  pain ; 
We  touch  Him  in  life's  throng  and  press, 

And  we  are  whole  again." 

William  Law,  whose  insight  was  so  remark- 
able, writing  in  the  last  century  said,  pithily: 

"If  a  man  do  not  believe  that  all  the  world  is  as 
54 


Trustful  To-morrows 

God's  family,  where  nothing  happens  by  chancd 
but  all  is  guided  and  directed  by  the  care  and 
providence  of  a  Being  that  is  all  love  and  good- 
ness to  his  creatures,  if  a  man  do  not  believe 
this  from  his  heart,  he  cannot  be  said  truly 
to  believe  in  God.  And  yet  he  that  has  this 
faith  has  faith  enough  to  overcome  the  world 
and  always  be  thankful  to  God.  For  he  that 
believes  that  everything  happens  to  him  for  the 
best  cannot  possibly  complain  for  the  want  of 
something  that  is  better.  If  therefore  you  live 
in  murmurings  and  complaints,  accusing  all  the 
accidents  of  life,  it  is  not  because  you  are  a  weak, 
infirm  creature,  but  it  is  because  you  want  the 
first  principle  of  religion,  a  right  belief  in  God. 
It. is  certain  that,  whatever  seeming  calamity 
happens  to  you,  if  you  thank  and  praise  God  for 
it  you  turn  it  into  a  blessing.  Could  you,  there- 
fore, work  miracles  you  could  not  do  more  for 
yourself  than  by  this  thankful  spirit,  for  it  heals 
with  a  word  speaking,  and  turns  all  that  it 
touches  into  happiness." 

We  should  not  overlook  the  great  goodness 
of  God  which  ordains  that,  for  most  of  us,  days 
of  illness  are  episodes  in  the  midst  of  days  of 

health  and  activity.     They  interrupt  us  in  our 
55 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

career,  and  for  awhile  we  are  laid  aside,  but  they 
pass,  and  the  tide  which  ebbed  flows  in  again 
and  we  are  once  more  able  to  go  to  the  office  or 
the  shop,  to  sit  at  the  head  of  the  table,  to  engage 
in  the  multitudinous  affairs  of  our  lives.  Dur- 
ing the  period  of  inaction  it  is  well  for  us  if  we 
have  been  able  to  lay  everything  in  the  kind 
hands  of  God,  to  trust  everything  to  him,  sure 
that  he  will  not  appoint  us  one  bitter  drop  too 
much. 

The  real  test  comes  to  us  when  not  only  is  our 
illness  the  occasion  of  pain  to  us  personally,  but 
when,  if  prolonged,  it  brings  great  weariness  to 
our  caretakers  and  perhaps  entails  privation 
upon  them,  in  the  loss  of  means  which  the  bread- 
winner earns  when  in  health.  To  feel  that 
there  is  no  time  to  be  ill  is  to  know  a  very  keen, 
knife-like  thrust  of  anguish.  Yet  here  too  the 
childlike  heart  will  breathe  "Thy  will  be  done," 
and  will  repose  in  confidence  on  the  pledge  that 
**all  things  work  together  for  good  to  those  who 
love  God." 

"We  must  sometimes  be  ready  to  cry, 

"But  if  this  weariness  hath  come 

A  present  from  on  high. 
Teach  me  to  find  the  hidden  wealth 

That  in  its  depths  may  lie." 
56 


Trustful  To-morrows 

One  of  the  most  difficult  tasks  and  heaviest 
burdens  ever  laid  upon  a  believing  soul  is  to  see 
the  suffering  of  little  children.  When  pain 
comes  to  an  infant  too  young  to  tell  what  hurts 
and  where  the  hurt  is,  when  its  arresting  pres- 
ence stops  the  mirth  of  the  growing  boy  and 
shuts  down  like  a  heavy  curtain  on  the  bright- 
ness of  the  young  girl,  we,  who  can  only  min- 
ister, who  cannot  avert  the  ill,  nor  take  it  away 
and  bear  it  ourselves,  find  it  terribly  hard  to  be 
cheerful  and  composed.  Childhood  ought  to  be 
so  free  from  sickness,  so  full  of  elasticity  and 
delight,  that  suffering  laid  upon  its  shoulders 
appears  to  us  as  an  anachronism.  Happily, 
children  accept  without  murmuring  whatever 
the  day  brings  them,  and  for  that  very  reason 
they  recover  more  rapidly  from  any  transient 
malady  than  their  elders  do.  And  for  our  chil- 
dren as  for  ourselves,  in  our  days  of  the  darkness 
and  of  the  light,  we  must  ask  grace  for  the  day 
and  believe  and  hope  and  wait,  sure  that  in  the 
hottest  furnace  there  will  walk  with  us  One  like 
unto  the  Son  of  God. 

"The  folded  hands  seem  idle. 

If  folded  at  His  word 
'Tis  a  holy  service,  trust  me, 

In  obedience  to  the  Lord." 
57 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

"Among  so  many  can  he  care? 
Can  special  love  be  everywhere? 
A  myriad  homes,  a  myriad  ways, 
And  God's  eye  over  every  place? 
I  asked.    My  soul  bethought  of  this : 
In  that  same  very  place  of  his 
Where  he  hath  put  and  keepeth  you 
God  hath  no  other  thing  to  do." 

Invalids  frequently  look  back  to  convalescence 
as  a  time  of  peculiar  blessedness.  The  differ- 
ence between  convalescence  and  extreme  illness 
in  the  initiative  is  often  so  very  slight  that  a 
physician  or  a  nurse  only  can  state,  with  any- 
thing like  assurance,  whether  the  tide  has  really 
turned  or  whether  it  is  still  ebbing  out  toward 
eternity.  If  it  has  turned,  and,  ever  so  slowly, 
life  is  flowing  back,  then  there  may  be  for  a 
while  no  improvement  sufficiently  marked  to  be 
admitted  as  such  by  the  unprofessional  eye.  In 
convalescence  one  sometimes  measures  progress 
by  weeks,  when  by  days  there  is  apparently  none 
to  mark.  Scanning  the  past  seven  days  or  four- 
teen days  there  is  noted  an  increase  of  strength, 
ability  to  take  more  nourishment,  less  irritation 
of  nerves,  less  sensitive  quivering  at  a  slight 
noise,  presently  a  little  more  desire  to  know 
what  is  going  on,  and  soon  a  wish  to  see  inquir- 
ing friends.  This  last  step  must  be  taken  with 
58 


Teustful  To-morrows 

great  caution,  and  visitors  from  the  world  out- 
side accepted  with  wise  discrimination,  while  in 
the  hand  to  hand  conflict  between  vitality  and 
morbid  tendency  the  forces  of  the  former  are 
gaining  the  ascendant. 

In  the  early  stages  of  convalescence  a  patient 
requires  very  tender  and  judicious  care.  There 
must  be  no  relaxation  of  vigilance,  no  intermis- 
sion of  the  sentries  on  guard,  for  a  small  indis- 
cretion, an  unmeant  blunder,  may  occasion  that 
dreaded  condition  of  affairs,  a  relapse ;  a  thing 
to  be  scrupulously  avoided,  since  the  victim  has 
not  now  the  reserves  on  which  to  draw,  as  he  had 
when  originally  taken  ill.  In  convalescence  one 
must  make  haste  slowly.  Tide  over  by  every 
possible  means  that  phase  of  returning  health 
when  even  a  statesman,  in  his  invalid  weakness, 
may  behave  like  a  spoiled  baby.  Is  it  never 
coming  back,  the  old  independence  of  action, 
the  old  swiftness  of  thought,  the  old  exhilara- 
tion in  work,  and  rapture  in  being  alive  ?  Per- 
haps the  despair  and  depression  express  them- 
selves in  a  curtness  or  brusqueness  alien  to  the 
manner  of  the  person  in  health,  but  pardoned  by 
attendants  and  friends  who  know  that  it  is 

merely  incidental  to  weakness,  and  that  it  will 
59 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

be  transient.  Xow,  when  the  room  is  flooded 
with  sunshine  and  radiant  with  flowers,  when  a 
child's  foot  is  allowed  to  cross  the  threshold,  and 
a  child's  sweet  voice  is  heard  beside  the  bed,  the 
crossness,  for  it  is  just  that,  passes  away,  and 
the  invalid  begins  to  enjoy  the  returning  days, 
each  laden  for  him  or  her  with  new  gifts  and 
graces. 

What  gratitude  we  owe  to  that  minister  of 
love  the  trained  nurse,  a  product  of  nineteenth 
century  wisdom.  There  have  always  been 
women  described  as  born  nurses;  women  with 
cool  hands,  deft  and  skillful,  and  with  that 
faculty  for  care-taking  which  is  brought  to  its 
highest  water-mark  under  the  discipline  of  a 
nurses'  school.  But  our  modern  nurse  is  for- 
tunate in  being  able  to  economize  her  own 
strength ;  she  is  not  disturbed  by  the  emotional 
strain  which  wears  on  wife  and  mother;  she  is 
the  doctor's  obedient  instrument,  and  in  her  best 
estate  becomes  the  prized  and  honored  friend  of 
the  family. 

In  the  old  days  God  sent  his  angels  oft 

To  men  in  threshing-floors,  to  women  pressed 

With  daily  tasks ;  they  came  to  tent  and  croft, 
And  whispered  words  of  blessing  and  of  rest. 
60 


Trustful  To-moeeows 

Not  mine  to  guess  what  shape  those  angels  wore, 
Nor  in  what  voice  they  spoke,  nor  with  what  grace 

They  brought  the  dear  love  down  that  evermore 
Makes  lowliest  souls  its  best  abiding-place. 

But  in  these  days  I  know  my  angels  well ; 

They  brush  my  garments  on  the  common  way, 
They  take  my  hand,  and  very  softly  tell 

Some  bit  of  comfort  in  the  waning  day. 
And  though  their  angel  names  I  do  not  ken, 

Though  in  their  faces  human  love  I  read. 
They  are  God-given  to  this  world  of  men, 

God-sent  to  bless  it  in  its  hours  of  need. 

Child,  mother,  dearest  wife,  brave  hearts  that  tak« 
The  rough  and  bitter  cross,  and  help  me  bear 

Its  heavy  weight  when  strength  is  like  to  break, 
God  bless  you  all,  our  angels  unaware ! 
61 


Cheerful  To-days  and 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Comfort  in  Sorrow 

"Into  each  life  some  rain  must  fall." 
SOEEOW  sooner  or  later  visits  every  one.  It 
may  be  of  one  or  another  variety ;  it  may  be  grief 
over  the  dead  or  distress  over  the  living.  A 
child  gone  astray  is  a  far  greater  source  of  sor- 
row than  a  child  asleep  in  the  cemetery.  The 
trouble  which  one  has  over  the  living  is  never 
finished ;  it  rises  up  with  one  at  morning,  accom- 
panies him  all  day,  and  lies  down  with  him  at 
night.  What  form  it  shall  next  take  depends 
on  so  many  possible  combinations  of  temptation 
or  opportunity  that  they  who  endure  this  special 
form  of  trial  seldom  feel  secure;  they  are  in 
dread  of  some  new  feature,  some  denouement 
worse  than  the  last. 

"When  my  darling  boy  died  after  a  few  hours 
of  frightful  illness  I  was  prostrated  in  the  very 
dust,"  said  a  mother.  "My  whole  world  lay 
about  me  in  ruins.  The  narrow  grave  in  which 
we  laid  him  blotted  the  sunshine  from  our  sky, 

and  I  remember  three  lines  of  poetry  which  I 
62 


Trustful  To-moeeows 

read  that  mournful  summer,  and  which  kept 
recurring  to  me, 

'His  part  in  all  the  pomp  that  fills 
The  circuit  of  the  summer  hills 
Is  that  his  grave  is  green.' 

For  years  I  rejected  consolation,  and  turned  my 
back  on  every  solace;  I  was  angry  with  God, 
who  had  dared  to  snatch  away  my  son.  That 
was  the  worst  part  of  it — the  hard,  cold,  bitter 
spot  in  my  heart,  and  the  sense  of  absence  from 
my  Heavenly  Father.  I  have  learned  now  that 
there  are  griefs  to  which  mine  was  nothing. 

"My  friend,  whose  son  and  mine  were  school- 
mates, has  spent  months  in  trying  to  free  him 
from  a  vile  accusation.  She  believes  him  to  be 
innocent,  as  I  do,  but  around  his  feet  a  network 
of  incriminating  circumstantial  evidence  has 
been  woven,  and  he  is  in  prison,  his  name  de- 
famed, his  home  broken  up,  his  career  ruined, 
and  apparently  there  is  no  way  out  of  the  diffi- 
culty. The  only  thing  which  buoys  that  mother 
up  is  her  firm  belief  that  her  boy  is  innocent ; 
there  are  mothers  who  have  no  reason  for  such 
a  trust  when  their  sons  are  accused.  I  have 
reached  a  place  where  I  can  say  *Thank  God  for 

my  darling  in  heaven !' " 
63 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

Of  whatever  nature  our  particular  grief  may 
be  there  is  balm  for  it  in  the  Gilead  of  God's 
great  dispensary.  The  sad-faced  woman  whom 
I  met  carrying  roses  to  lay  on  a  mound  in  that 
beautiful  God's  acre  at  Savannah,  where  the 
weird  gray  moss  hangs  from  the  trees  and  the 
jasmine  lights  its  golden  star  above  the  silent 
sleepers,  smiled  in  my  face  as  she  said,  "Robbie 
never  had  a  moment  to  rest  before.  He  can  rest 
now."  Mrs.  Browning  was  in  the  right  when 
she  interpreted  the  feeling  of  thousands  who  are 
bereaved, 

"Well  done  of  God  to  halve  the  lot. 
And  give  her  all  the  sweetness ; 

To  us,  the  empty  room  and  cot ; 
To  her,  the  heaven's  completeness.'* 

If  we  can  but  be  unselfish  our  grief  for  the 
dead  is  cheated  of  its  sting;  and  in  our  grief  for 
the  living  there  is  usually  at  least  one  mitiga- 
tion, that  of  hope  for  a  brighter  day.  "It  is 
better  farther  on,"  we  sing,  and  take  courage. 

A  man  honored  and  beloved  by  all  his  friends 
died  suddenly  some  years  ago  in  a  New  York 
hospital.  He  had  been  in  receipt  of  an  ampW 
salary  and   had  few  personal   extravagances. 

There  seemed  no  reason  why  he  should  die  in 
64 


Trustful  To-morrows 

debt,  yet,  when  he  was  gone,  it  was  discovered 
that  to  the  charity  of  friends  and  acquaintances 
he  must  owe  the  six  feet  of  earth  in  which  he 
was  to  lie.  No  one  could  understand  the  situ- 
ation or  explain  it,  but  after  a  while  the  fact- 
transpired  that  for  years  he  had  been  support- 
ing a  relative,  a  man  of  education  and  native 
refinement  who  had  taken  to  drink,  who  had 
fallen  lower  and  lower  until  all  kinsmen  but  this 
one  had  abandoned  him,  who  had  finally  degen- 
erated into  a  social  outcast  and  a  tramp.  The 
drain  on  the  man's  resources  had  been  con- 
stant, and  he  had  deprived  himself  of  almost 
everything  that  he  might  assist  his  weaker 
brother,  and  finally  he  had  dropped  down  be- 
neath a  load  too  heavy  for  him  to  bear.  This 
was  a  day  by  day  torture,  so  cheerfully  endured 
that  its  very  existence  had  not  been  suspected. 

In  sorrow,  whatever  it  be,  the  natural  tem- 
per of  the  mind  must  be  considered ;  its  power 
of  reaction  from  the  first  despair,  and  its  elas- 
ticity or  its  sluggishness.  A  mercurial  person 
resists  melancholy,  and  fights  against  it.  A  per- 
fectly well  and  vigorous  person  has  in  physical 
strength  an  armor  against  morbid  grief.  Com- 
fort comes  to  some  of  us  in  every  pulsation  of 
65 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

the  heart,  in  every  waft  of  the  breeze,  in  every 
sunset  cloud  and  blooming  flower.  Others  are 
obstinately  sorrowful,  and,  against  their  own 
will,  find  their  hearts  as  heavy  as  lead — receiv- 
ing comfort  only  from  time,  which  blunts  the 
edge  of  the  sharpest  wounds. 

Duty,  however,  points  to  unselfishness  in  sor- 
row. !N"o  matter  how  desperate  the  situation, 
how  forlorn  the  day,  we  have  no  right  to  include 
in  our  own  misery  those  we  meet,  strangers,  or 
visitors,  or  children.  For  the  sake  of  others  we 
must  arise  and  eat  bread,  and  go  about  our  daily 
work  and  make  the  most  of  what  still  remains. 
To  gather  up  the  fragments  that  nothing  may 
be  lost  is  still  the  divine  injunction,  and  it  is 
incumbent  on  us  all. 

The  ejffort  to  look  and  speak  cheerfully,  and 

the  endeavor  to  make  others  happy,  will  usually 

be  successful  in  bringing  relief  to  our  own 

bosoms.     The  getting  out  of  self  is  absolutely 

essential.     I  shall  always  remember  a  Christian 

gentlewoman  who  came  on  the  appointed  day 

of  its  meeting  to  a  board  in  which  she  held  an 

important  office.     Only  three  days  had  elapsed 

since  there  had  been  a  funeral  at  her  home,  and 

"we  had  followed  to  Greenwood  the  form  of  her 
66 


Trustful  To-moeeows 

son,  laid  low  in  his  early  maturity.  "The  Lord's 
work  must  be  done/'  she  said,  and  calmly,  with- 
out wavering  and  without  delay,  took  up  what 
he  had  appointed  her. 

"Blessed  are  they  that  mourn :  for  they  shall 
be  comforted,"  said  the  Master,  and  somehow, 
at  the  core  of  the  deepest  desolation,  there  is  a 
honey  of  sweetness  in  the  thought  of  that  pledge 
of  blessing.  For  by  whom  are  we  to  be  com- 
forted ?  By  no  human  agency  alone ;  if  by  hu- 
man means,  they  are  but  channels  through 
which  our  God  will  move.  In  our  extremity  the 
compassionate  Jesus  will  himself  loose  our 
bonds  and  give  us  freedom  and  support. 

One  of  the  dearest  elderly  women  I  ever  knew 
after  the  decease  of  an  idolized  daughter  found 
alleviation  of  her  loneliness  in  taking  up  the 
daughter's  work.  The  young  lady  had  been  un- 
tiring in  her  devotion  to  an  orphanage — ^visiting 
it  frequently,  teaching  classes  of  the  little  ones, 
raising  money  for  its  endowment,  and  person- 
ally placing  the  children  in  homes  when  they 
were  ready  to  leave  the  fostering  care  of  the  in- 
stitution. Ever}i;hing  the  daughter  had  done, 
in  her  plenitude  of  youth  and  fullness  of  vigor, 

the  mother  did  in  her  lessened  strength  and 
67 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

greater  age,  and  her  gentle  face  and  slender  fig- 
ure in  its  trailing  robes  of  black  were  soon 
familiar  in  haunts  which  they  had  previously 
not  known.  In  her  loving  ministries  she  was 
abundantly  blessed,  and  there  came  to  her  such 
a  sense  of  companionship  with  the  one  who  was 
gone  as  she  could  have  found  in  no  other  way. 

A  certain  household  where  sons  were  as  olive 
plants  around  the  table  had  one  little  daughter, 
who  was  so  petted  and  prized  and  made  much 
of  that  she  was  almost  the  corner  stone  of  the 
domestic  edifice.  Blanche  was  the  darling  of 
parents  and  brothers,  the  youngest  of  the  flock, 
a  lovely  girl  whose  future  loomed  up  in  un- 
clouded splendor.  She  could  ride,  swim,  drive, 
hold  her  own  in  any  sport  and  in  any  study,  and 
her  beauty  was  like  that  of  an  unfolding  flower. 
No  expense  was  spared  for  Blanche,  and  she  had 
not  an  unfulfilled  wish  in  the  world. 

Suddenly  as  if  lightning  had  flashed  from  a 
clear  sky  a  fatal  sickness  smote  her,  and  she  was 
not,  for  God  had  taken  her. 

"There  is  no  flock,  however  watched  and  tended, 

But  one  dead  lamb  is  there ; 
There  is  no  household,  howsoe'er  defended, 

But  has  one  vacant  chair." 
G8 


31 K' ' ?  'I- ■'  .,,.,11 


One  Little  Daughter." 


Tbustful  To-morrows 

Very  blank  was  the  empty  space,  very  silent 
the  house,  very  sweeping  the  sorrow,  in  the  home 
from  which  Blanche  had  been  snatched.  What 
did  the  parents  do  ?  Just  this.  As  soon  as  they 
could  rally  from  the  shock  and  gather  them- 
selves together  they  computed  the  amount  they 
had  spent  each  year  for  Blanche,  the  amount 
they  would  probably  have  spent  in  the  years  of 
her  early  womanhood,  and  they  consecrated  that 
sum  to  the  education  of  another  girl  of  her  age, 
and  to  the  salary  of  a  missionary  woman  in  a 
foreign  station  where  Blanche  was  interested. 
And  so  they  kept  her  little  candle  burning, 
though  they  sat  in  the  dark. 

A  sorrow  for  some  of  us  is  found  in  the  open- 
ing of  our  eyes  to  our  own  limitations.  There 
was  a  golden  day  when  we  felt  that  defeat  and 
retreat  were  terms  we  could  never  understand. 
Our  plans  were  made  for  success.  With  failure 
we  should  never  have  aught  to  do.  But  the 
onward  march  has  seen  us  lagging  in  the  rear, 
where  we  anticipated  pushing  forward  in  the 
van.  We  are  aware  that  we  cannot  keep  the 
pace  that  our  contemporaries  have  taken;  we 
must  instead  walk  softly,  and,  not  able  to  do  all 

we  would,  we  must  do  what  we  can.     In  this 
6  69 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

condition  let  us  cease  to  fret,  for  even  here  there 
is  comfort  in  the  thought  that  "they  also  serve 
who  only  stand  and  wait."  As  in  the  old  days 
an  equal  division  of  spoil  was  the  portion  of 
those  who  tarried  by  the  stuff  as  of  those  who 
went  to  the  field  and  fought  the  foe,  so,  to-day, 
God's  rewards  are  distributed  impartially  to  all 
who  do  his  will,  whether  in  the  open  contest  or 
in  the  quiet  of  the  curtained  room. 

How  rich  a  comfort  have  those  derived  who, 
being  blessed  by  God  with  large  means,  have 
consecrated  them  to  the  uses  of  humanity,  link- 
ing the  college,  the  hospital  bed,  the  gymnasium, 
the  nurses'  home,  or  the  library,  with  the  name 
of  some  one  who  has  a  new  Christ-given  name 
in  the  Jerusalem  that  is  above.  The  broad  uni- 
versity, forever  dispensing  liberal  culture  and 
scientific  knowledge  to  eager  youth,  and  giving 
them  educational  opportunities  in  their  poverty 
which  the  millionaire's  purse  were  scarcely  large 
enough  to  buy,  is  a  white  stone  erected  for  the 
love  of  a  son  gone  home  to  the  better  land  and 
sorely  missed  here.  Every  small  crippled  child 
treated  in  a  certain  hospital  bed  owes  its  relief 
and  cure  to  the  undying  sorrow  of  a  mother 

from  whose  arms  one  summer  day  two  bonny  lit- 
70 


Trustful  To-morrows 

tie  ones  slipped  away.  Broken-hearted  parents 
saw  their  splendid  boy  close  his  eyes  on  the 
lights  of  earth  and  their  own  way  grew  so  black 
that  they  groped  in  it  as  if  blind,  till  a  star  arose 
to  show  them  the  path  and  they  heard  a  voice 
saying,  "I  [who  have  taken  him]  will  come 
again,  and  receive  you  unto  myself."  The  fruit 
of  that  hour  is  a  superb  gymnasium  for  the 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association  of  which 
their  son  was  a  member,  and  so  long  as  happy- 
hearted  young  people  shall  enjoy  its  benefits  it 
will  be  a  testimony  of  one  Christ-like  method  of 
finding  comfort  in  sorrow,  the  peace  under  the 
deep  sea,  though  the  billows  are  in  agitation 
above. 

If  Chbist  Webe  Hebe  To-night 

If  Christ  were  here  to-night  and  saw  me  tired, 
And  half  afraid  another  step  to  take, 

I  think  he'd  know  the  thing  my  heart  desired, 
And  ease  that  heart  of  all  its  throbbing  ache. 

If  Christ  were  here,  in  this  dull  room  of  mine 
That  gathers  up  so  many  shadows  dim, 

I  am  quite  sure  its  narrow  space  would  shine, 
And  kindle  into  glory  around  him. 

If  Christ  were  here  I  might  not  pray  so  long: 
My  prayer  would  have  such  little  way  to  go ; 

T  would  break  into  a  burst  of  happy  song. 
So  would  my  joy  and  gladness  overflow. 
71 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

"If  Christ  were  here  to-night  I'd  touch  the  hem 
Of  his  fair,  seamless  robe,  and  stand  complete 

In  wholeness  and  in  whiteness ;  I,  who  stem 
Such  waves  of  pain  to  kneel  at  his  dear  feet. 

If  Christ  were  here  to-night  I'd  tell  him  all 
The  load  I  carry  for  the  ones  I  love — 

The  blinded  ones,  who  grope  and  faint  and  fall, 
Following  false  guides,  nor  seeking  Christ  above. 

If  Christ  were  here!    Ah,  faithless  soul  and  weak, 
Is  not  the  Master  ever  close  to  thee? 

Deaf  is  thine  ear,  that  can'st  not  hear  him  speak ; 
Dim  is  thine  eye,  bis  face  that  can  not  see. 

Thy  Christ  is  here,  and  never  far  away ; 

He  entered  with  thee  when  thou  earnest  in ; 
His  strength  was  thine  through  all  the  busy  day : 

He  knew  thy  need,  he  kept  thee  pure  from  sin. 

Thy  blessed  Christ  is  in  thy  little  room ; 

Nay,  more — the  Christ  himself  is  in  thy  heart ; 
Fear  not ;  the  dawn  will  scatter  darkest  gloom. 

And  heaven  will  be  of  thy  rich  life  a  part. 
72 


Tbustful  To-moekows 


CHAPTEK  IX 

Looking  Forward 
From  the  hour  when  the  pilgrimage  begins 
there  is  a  continual  looking  forward,  a  reaching 
out  of  powers  and  endeavors  to  a  goal  ever 
beckoning  the  ardent  soul.  Indeed  before  the 
human  being  takes  his  place  in  the  great  world 
armies  there  is  an  intense  and  sacred  expecta- 
tion clinging  to  him,  inwoven  in  the  very  fibers 
of  his  mental  and  physical  consciousness.  In 
one  most  important  though  altogether  hidden 
period  of  existence,  the  pre-natal,  the  little  child 
of  God  who  is  presently  to  put  on  immortality 
is  the  object  of  devout  and  loving  anticipation 
in  the  home,  and  to  one  person,  the  mother,  is  a 
wonder  and  a  joy  in  the  months  of  looking  for- 
ward while  the  babe  in  her  womb  is  in  sanctu- 
ary. Never  is  a  woman  so  hallowed,  so  lifted 
above  the  ordinary  plane,  so  beautiful,  as  when, 
the  glory  of  her  coming  motherhood  upon  her, 
she  holds  herself  away  and  apart  from  every  de- 
basing thought,  keeps  herself  serene  and  pure, 

for  the  sake  of  the  child  whom  she  feels  but  can- 
73 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

not  see.  Keeps  herself  ?  Nay,  rather,  in  these 
long,  hushed,  waiting  days  she  is  kept,  trusting 
in  God,  from  evil  thoughts  and  from  fear,  from 
petty  irritations  and  flurries  of  anger,  while  she 
is  often  rapt  in  meditation  and  is  wistful  that 
her  divine  Friend  and  Master  may  enter  into 
her  home  and  abide  with  her  there.  For  in 
these  days  of  looking  forward  the  mother  too  is 
in  sanctuary,  sheltered  by  the  tender  watching 
angels,  hearing  symphonies  of  heaven,  and  com- 
muning much  with  the  Most  High. 

Strange,  when  the  anticipation  is  so  sweet 
and  the  reality  so  blessed,  that  there  should  ever 
be  reluctant  maternity,  that  the  days  when  the 
mother  is  brooding  over  her  nursery  should  ever 
be  aught  but  cheerful ! 

Mothers  have  the  monopoly  of  sacred  joy  in 
the  dear  looking  forward,  wistful,  wondering, 
waiting  till  the  sacred  hour  of  birth  arrives,  and 
they  greet  their  new  darling.  Nothing  else  in 
the  world  is  like  this.  In  a  recently  published 
autobiography  there  is  a  very  touching  passage 
in  which  a  wife,  seeing  her  husband's  life  drift- 
ing out  day  by  day  and  fearing  he  might  go  be- 
fore he  saw  his  unborn  child,  a  thing  which 

actually  happened,  often  strayed  into  a  little 
74 


Trustful  To-moerows 

room  in  the  Pitti  Palace  in  Florence  where 
hung  a  famous  picture  of  the  Visitation.  Lone- 
ly, a  stranger  in  a  strange  land  with  a  great 
anguish  staring  her  in  the  face,  Margaret  Oli- 
phant  said,  "It  seemed  to  do  me  good  to  go  and 
look  at  these  two  women,  the  tender  old  Eliza- 
beth, and  Mary  with  all  the  awe  of  her  coming 
motherhood  upon  her.  I  had  little  thought  of 
all  that  was  to  happen  to  me  before  my  child 
came,  but  I  had  no  woman  to  go  to,  to  be  com- 
forted, except  these  two."  This  is  a  touching 
revelation  of  the  way  art  may  prove  God's 
messenger,  in  a  crisis.  Just  as  Nature  so  often 
does.  All  the  rose-strewn  path  of  childhood  is 
for  mothers  a  looking  forward,  from  the  first 
toddling  steps  to  the  going  to  school,  then  on- 
ward to  the  choosing  of  a  profession.  The  pres- 
ent is  but  the  foothold  by  which  the  mother 
climbs  to  the  next  level  in  advance. 

But  we  look  forward  in  many  other  fields. 
Without  this  quality,  which  acts  as  a  saving  salt, 
we  might  stagnate.  Things  would  not  be  worth 
while;  for  nobody  lives  only  for  food  and  rai- 
ment, and  for  the  festivity  of  the  hour  alone,  if 
he  or  she  possesses  the  instincts  which  are  the 

birthright  of  an  immortal  being.     "We  eat  and 
75 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

drink  and  to-morrow  we  die"  is  the  hopeless  out- 
cry of  the  skeptic  who,  with  Omar  Khayyam, 
sees  in  the  sky  only  an  inverted  howl  under 
which  the  generations  creep  and  crawl  to  noth- 
ingness. Not  so  with  those  who  feel  the  power 
of  the  world  to  come  pressing  them  round  in  this 
time  of  preparation.  For  them  the  looking  for- 
ward always  crosses  the  river  and  mounts  the 
heights  on  the  other  side. 

Is  there  anything  in  literature  more  winsome 
and  charming  than  the  looking  forward  of  Mar- 
garet Ogilvy  and  her  son,  told  in  the  inimitable 
manner  of  one  of  our  greatest  men  of  genius : 

"Mother,  the  little  girl  in  my  story  wears  a 
magenta  frock  and  a  white  pinafore." 

"You  minded  that!  But  I'm  thinking  it 
wasna  a  lassie  in  a  pinafore  you  saw  in  the  long 
parks  of  Kinnordy,  it  was  just  a  gey  done  aidd 
woman." 

"It  was  a  lassie  in  a  pinafore,  mother,  when 
she  was  far  away,  hut  when  she  came  near  it  was 
a  gey  done  auld  woman." 

"And  a  fell  ugly  one !" 

"The  most  beautiful  one  I  shall  ever  see !" 

"I  wonder  to  hear  you  say  it.    Look  at  my 

wrinkled  auld  face." 

76 


Trustful  To-moreows 

"It  is  the  sweetest  face  in  all  the  world." 

"See  how  the  rings  drop  off  my  poor  wasted 
j&nger." 

"There  will  always  he  some  one  nigh,  mother, 
to  put  them  on  again/' 

"Ay  will  there!  Well  I  know  it.  Do  you 
mind  how  when  you  were  but  a  bairn  you  used 
to  say,  'Wait  till  I'm  a  man,  and  you'll  never 
have  a  reason  for  greeting  again'  ? 

"You  used  to  coming  running  into  the  house 
to  say,  'There's  a  proud  dame  going  down  the 
Marywell  brae  in  a  cloak  that  is  black  on  one 
side  and  white  on  the  other ;  wait  till  I'm  a  man 
and  you'll  have  one  the  very  same.'  And  when 
I  lay  on  gey  hard  beds  you  said,  'When  I'm  a 
man  you'll  lie  on  feathers.'  You  saw  nothing 
bonny,  you  never  heard  of  my  setting  my  heart 
on  anything,  but  what  you  flung  up  your  head 
and  cried,  'Wait  till  I'm  a  man.'  You  fair 
shamed  me  before  the  neighbors ;  and  yet  I  was 
windy,  too.  And  now  it  has  all  come  true  like 
a  dream.  I  can  call  to  mind  not  one  little  thing 
I  ettled  for  in  my  lusty  days  that  hasna  been  put 
into  my  hands  in  my  auld  age." 

Was  there  not  to  the  son  of  Margaret  Ogilvy 

an  unutterable  gratitude  of  heart  that  his  look- 

77 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

ing  forward  for  his  beloved  mother's  welfare 
had  been  so  fulfilled,  that  he  had  been  able  to 
do  for  her  in  manhood  what  the  leal  laddie  had 
planned  in  childish  days? 

Most  husbands  and  wives  must  begin  their 
united  partnership  in  the  day  of  small  things. 
They  have  their  fortunes  to  make,  and  so  they 
set  out,  if  they  are  sensible,  in  the  unpretending 
little  home  with  the  very  simple  furnishing,  and 
with  no  attempt  at  gorgeous  draperies,  costly 
rugs,  or  lavish  display.  Their  careful  econo- 
mies, their  conscientious  use  of  every  dollar,  their 
investing  for  a  future  day,  are  noble  and  honor- 
able, and  yet  more :  they  are  satisfying  and  de- 
lightful. What  pleasure  of  the  millionaire  in 
buying  the  picture  he  fancies  in  a  gallery,  draw- 
ing his  check,  and  thinking  no  more  about  it, 
can  for  a  moment  compare  with  the  sense  of 
achievement,  of  victory  gained,  which  is  the 
crowning  joy  of  a  young  couple  who  for  a  year 
have  been  saving  up  to  secure  a  coveted  painting 
for  their  walls  ?  How  often  have  they  strolled 
past  the  dealer's  shop  and  gazed  into  his  win- 
dow !  How  their  hearts  went  dovra,  down,  into 
the  depths  when  once  that  window  failed  to  hold 
their  picture — when  another  had  replaced  it. 


Trustful  To-moerows 

s 

Trembling  and  disturbed  they  ventured  in,  to 
ask  whether  it  had  been  bought  and  sent  away ; 
and  how  hope  revived  when  they  saw  it  still 
within  their  grasp,  if  only  the  little  sums  put  by 
would  mount  up  faster.  Their  children  in  days 
to  come  will  wonder  why  papa  and  mamma, 
lovers  yet,  so  often  sit  hand  in  hand  on  the  sofa 
and  look  at  the  old  picture  brought  home  when 
the  eldest  born  was  a  baby.  Ah!  they  cannot 
fathom  what  love  and  faith  and  hope  meant  to 
their  parents  in  the  cheery  days  when  they 
worked  together  for  their  home  building  and 
money  was  scarce. 

Above  all  other  serviceable  gifts  is  a  capacity 
for  looking  forward  when  one  meets  reverses. 
The  ship  is  going  on  under  full  sail,  and  every- 
thing is  favorable  for  a  successful  voyage,  when, 
lo !  a  cloud  appears  on  the  horizon,  a  gale  rises, 
the  storm  gathers  and  breaks.  Our  shores  are 
strewn  with  the  wreckage  of  vessels  that  were 
only  yesterday  faring  on  bravely  toward  their 
desired  haven.  In  some  cases  the  wreck  is  final ; 
the  sailor  never  tries  to  make  another  port.  In 
others,  the  mariner  with  steady  eye  and  splen- 
did courage  builds  a  boat — perhaps  of  drift- 
wood, if  he  can  do  no  more — runs  up  a  rag  of 
79 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

canvas,  looks  aloft  for  help  and  goes  on  to  re- 
trieve every  disaster  and  come  gallantly  home  at 
last.  Blessed  is  the  disposition  in  which  there 
is  the  ability  to  rebound ;  which  is  not  crushed 
by  calamity,  but  takes  its  courage  in  both  hands 
and  goes  on. 

"Speak  unto  the  children  of  Israel,  that  they 
go  forward,"  came  ringing  from  the  skies,  when 
the  mountains  and  the  desert  and  the  sea  were 
all  presenting  obstacles  in  the  path  of  their 
progress.  Since  he  who  watcheth  Israel  neither 
slumbers  nor  sleeps,  why  should  we  not  always 
listen  for  that  command  and  not  only  look,  but 

go,  forward  through  all  the  days  ? 
80 


Tbdstful  To-moekows 


CHAPTER  X 

Music  at  Home 

Forty  years  ago,  here  in  America,  our 
notions  of  music  were  very  primitive.  A  piano 
was  considered  part  of  the  essential  furnishings 
of  a  comfortable  home,  and  one  or  two  of  the 
daughters  of  the  household  took  music  lessons 
as  a  matter  of  course.  Women  whose  hair  is 
silvered  and  who  have  put  on  the  amplitude  of 
later  middle  life  remember  what  a  trial  those 
music  lessons  were,  recall  the  practicing  which 
held  them  rigidly  fast  while  their  brothers  were 
out  on  the  hills  playing  ball  or  skating  over  the 
frozen  lake.  The  half  hours  and  the  hours  were 
scrupulously  exacted,  careful  aunts  and  mothers 
watching  the  clock  when  the  young  girl  herself 
had  not  a  conscience  to  be  trusted,  and  by  de- 
grees the  book  of  exercises  was  somehow  fin- 
ished, the  earliest  novitiate  was  passed,  and  the 
performer  took  pieces — battles,  marches,  polkas, 
and  variations.  Once  in  a  while  a  girl  with  real 
musical  taste  and  decided  talent  persevered  and 

became  a  musician,  but  as  a  rule  the  hardly-won 
81 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

skill  was  soon  lost,  laid  aside  as  a  useless  tool, 
soon  rusted,  when  marriage  or  maturity  arrived. 
One  good  thing  resulted  from  the  somewhat 
crude  efforts  of  that  bygone  period,  and  that 
was  a  great  deal  of  innocent  sociability  and 
gayety  in  home  and  neighborhood  life.  There 
was  in  every  company  a  young  woman  who  could 
play.  Frequently  there  were  several  young 
women  whose  playing  was  agreeable,  and  the 
piano  on  long  winter  evenings  was  the  natural 
rallying  center  of  the  domestic  circle.  Friends 
happened  in,  and  there  was  singing.  A  little 
music  enlivened  the  routine  of  work.  Father 
enjoyed  it,  lying  back  in  his  easy  chair  with  the 
weekly  paper,  forgotten,  on  his  lap.  Mother 
felt  great  pride  in  her  daughter's  accomplish- 
ment; it  meant  poetry  and  brightness  and 
beauty  to  her,  redeeming  her  years  from  the 
gradual  narrowing  in  of  their  interests.  If  a 
brother  was  tempted  away  from  home,  lured  by 
evil  associates,  apt  to  go  astray,  there  was  always 
the  resource  of  music  to  keep  him  in  safe 
boimds;  his  sister  and  his  friends'  sisters  could 
weave  around  him  their  innocent  spells  and 
make  home  so  attractive  that  the  magic  of  vice 

fell  away  and  lost  its  malevolent  power.     Pass- 
82 


Teustful  To-moekows 

ing  down  a  village  street  one  heard  the  tinkle  of 
the  ''four  and  twenty  black  slaves  and  the  four 
and  twenty  white"  in  every  parlor,  and  a  new 
song,  a  new  arrangement  of  a  motive,  was  the 
theme  of  conversation  among  maidens  fair  as 
they  matched  worsteds  and  silks  and  exchanged 
dress  patterns. 

Who  fancies  that  lessons  for  a  year  or  two  are 
now  sufficient  to  turn  out  a  skilled  musician? 
Who  would  be  satisfied  with  the  cursory  ac- 
quaintance and  slovenly  technique  of  those  curi- 
ously simple  days  ?  We  are  now  aware  that  art 
is  a  jealous  mistress,  that  he  or  she  who  would 
become  proficient  at  her  shrine  must  lead  a 
laborious  life  and  give  her  utmost  devotion.  To 
play  even  fairly  well  one  must  sacrifice  many 
other  advantages,  and  few  people  are  contented, 
in  our  more  advanced  condition  of  scientific 
knowledge,  in  our  more  enlightened  view  point 
of  criticism  and  intelligence,  to  play  at  all  unless 
they  can  play  well. 

The  result  is  admirable  in  one  aspect.    Many 

girls  have  time  to  cultivate  their  physical  health, 

have  opportunity  for  outdoor  air  and  recreation, 

who  once  spent  their  morning  or  their  afternoon 

hours,  when  freed  from  school,  in  a  wrestle  with 
83 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

scales  and  finger  exercises.  But  something  has 
gone  from  home,  and  its  quiet  enjoyment,  which 
might  well  come  back.     There  is  a  vanished  joy. 

May  we  not  plead  for  a  middle  course,  for 
the  use  of  facility,  even  if  it  be  not  of  the  very 
highest,  and  for  the  return  of  simple  music  as  a 
part  of  our  everyday  life  ? 

Nothing  is  more  refreshing  than  a  half  hour 
of  song  when  the  work  of  the  day  is  over.  For 
the  family  to  gather  at  the  close  of  the  evening 
and  sing  the  dear  old  favorites,  such  as  "Abide 
with  me,"  "Lead,  kindly  Light,"  and  "Sun  of 
my  soul,  thou  Saviour  dear,"  is  to  send  all  to 
rest  with  a  benediction.  There  are  popular 
melodies,  rollicking  college  songs,  tender  old 
ballads,  which  have  a  melody  and  grace  of  their 
own,  and  which  make  a  swift  and  tender  appeal 
to  the  sentiments  of  faith,  love,  and  loyalty. 
Our  patriotic  and  martial  strains  should  be 
sung  often  in  every  home,  and  school,  and 
church.  While,  so  far  as  we  can,  we  should  seek 
the  best  we  should  not  scorn  second-best  in  our 
own  performances,  if  that  is  all  which  lies 
within  our  reach. 

I  would  have  girls  learn,  what  is  after  all  not 

so  simple  a  thing  as  it  sounds,  the  accomplish- 
84 


Trustful  To-morrows 

ment  of  playing  an  accurate  accompaniment  to 
the  songs  of  another.  A  good  accompanist  is  a 
social  benefactress,  and  on  occasion  she  may 
make  her  skill  pecuniarily  profitable.  Then, 
too,  I  would  have  all  players  assiduously  culti- 
vate a  musical  memory,  so  that  they  may  be  set 
free  from  the  bondage  of  notes,  and  I  vrould  also 
like  them  to  be  swift  and  sure  sight  readers,  so 
that  at  an  instant's  call  they  could  play  a  score 
and  relieve  the  embarrassment  of  any  occasion 
where  an  expected  performer  had  fallen  out  of 
line. 

I  am  not  speaking  here  of  the  subtle  and  sweet 
interpretations  of  the  great  masters,  nor  of  those 
who  have  learned  to  play  as  professionals  do.  I 
am  asking  only  that  as  a  contribution  to  the 
gayety  of  life  we  may  still  have  our  home  per- 
formers. 

There  is  a  lovely  poem  of  Frances  Ridley 
Havergal  which  illustrates  what  I  mean : 

"Sing  to  the  little  children 

And  they  will  listen  well, 
Sing  grand  and  holy  music. 

For  they  can  feel  its  spell. 


85 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

"I  remember,  late  one  evening, 

How  the  music  stopped,  for,  hark ! 
Charlie's  nursery  door  was  open, 

He  was  calling  in  the  dark. 
*0,  no !  I  am  not  frightened. 

And  I  do  not  want  a  light ; 
But  I  cannot  sleep  for  thinking 

Of  the  song  you  sang  last  night. 
Something  about  a  "valley" 

And  "make  rough  places  plain," 
And,  "Comfort  ye,"  so  beautiful ! 

O,  sing  it  me  again.' 

"Sing  in  the  deepening  twilight 

When  the  shadow  of  eve  is  nigh, 
And  the  purple  and  golden  pinions 

Fold  o'er  the  western  sky. 
Sing  in  the  silver  silence 

While  the  first  moonbeams  fall ; 
So  shall  your  power  be  greater 

Over  the  hearts  of  all. 
Sing  till  you  bear  them  with  you 

Into  a  holy  calm, 
And  the  sacred  tones  have  scattered 

Manna  and  myrrh  and  balm. 

"Sing  that  your  song  may  gladden ; 

Sing  like  the  happy  rills 
Leaping  in  sparkling  blessing. 

Fresh  from  the  breezy  hills. 
Sing  that  your  song  may  silence 

The  folly  and  the  jest, 
And  the  'idle  word'  be  banished 

As  an  unwelcome  guest. 
Sing  that  your  song  may  echo 

After  the  strain  is,  past — 
A  link  of  the  love-wrought  cable 

That  holds  some  vessel  fast. 
86 


Trustful  To-morrows 

"Sing  to  the  tired  and  anxious ; 

It  is  yours  to  fling  a  ray, 
Passing  indeed,  but  cheering. 

Across  the  rugged  way. 

"When  you  long  to  bear  the  message 

Home  to  some  troubled  breast. 
Then  sing  with  loving  fervor, 

'Come  unto  Me  and  rest !' 
Or,  would  you  whisper  comfort 

When  words  bring  no  relief. 
Sing  how  'He  was  despised. 

Acquainted  with  our  grief,' 
And  aided  by  His  blessing 

The  song  may  win  its  way 
Where  speech  had  no  admittance. 

And  change  its  night  to  day." 

When  the  sweet  singer  who  wrote  these  stan- 
zas was  lying  in  the  hush  of  her  last  illness  she 
was  heard  to  whisper,  "Splendid  to  he  so  near 
the  gates  of  heaven !"  "So  beautiful  to  go  V 
With  her  failing  voice,  hardly  more  than  a  sigh, 
she  breathed  forth  one  of  her  best  loved  hymns, 
"Jesus,  I  will  trust  thee,"  to  a  tune  of  her  own 
composing. 

"Then,"  said  her  sister,  "she  looked  up  stead- 
fastly as  if  she  saw  the  Lord !  and  surely  nothing 
less  heavenly  could  have  reflected  such  a  glori- 
ous radiance  upon  her  face.  For  ten  minutes 
we  watched  that  almost  visible  meeting  with  her 

King,  and  her  countenance  was  so  glad,  as  if  she 
87 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

were  already  talking  to  him.  Then  she  tried 
to  sing,  but  after  one  sweet,  high  note,  her  voice 
failed,  and  as  her  brother  commended  her  soul 
to  the  Redeemer's  hand  she  passed  away !" 

I  have  purposely  introduced  this  little  ac- 
count of  the  last  scene  of  a  beautiful  earthly 
life,  because  it  seems  plain  to  me  that  our  young 
people  might  make  so  much  use,  if  they  would, 
of  a  ministry  of  music  in  their  daily  life.  I 
do  not  say  in  their  religious  life,  for  there  can 
be  no  separation,  in  a  truly  consecrated  heart, 
between  one  part  of  duty  and  dnother.  Every 
bit  of  life  is  hallowed  if  indeed  we  belong  to  the 
King ;  and  all  service  rendered  to  him,  in  what- 
soever place,  must  be  fit  to  ask  his  blessing  upon. 
If  Christ  were  sitting  in  our  drawing-room, 
what  sort  of  music  should  we  play  ?  What  songs 
should  we  sing  ?  Th^t  is  always  a  true  test,  and 
whosoever  is  willing  to  bring  to  it  any  question 
of  right  or  wrong  will  speedily  find  it  answered 

and,  once  for  all,  settled. 
88 


Teustful  To-moerows 


CHAPTER  XI 
Of  Beauty  and  Its  Chaem 

A  VEEY  wise  woman  once  said  that  "the  great- 
est of  blessings  for  some  people  would  be  to 
learn  to  accept  themselves  and  their  gifts.  If 
they  could  stand  apart  from  themselves  awhile 
and  see  their  becoming  points  much  of  their 
repining  would  be  dropped."  Every  thing  and 
every  body  is  beautiful  in  its  season.  There 
is  a  wholesome  plainness  that  accords  with 
domestic  life  and  natural  surroundings,  as  the 
bark  of  trees  relieves  their  green.  The  color 
of  health  and  the  gentleness  and  sweetness  that 
come  of  a  conquered  self  are  elements  of  beauty 
that  make  any  face  tolerable. 

How  dear  are  the  faces  of  those  that  have 
watched  our  childhood,  with  whom  we  have 
grown  up  so  closely  that  feature  and  form  have 
lost  their  significance  and  we  really  do  not  know 
whether  they  are  homely  or  not,  and  see  only  the 
love  that  lives  in  them. 

I  often  wonder  why  women  care  so  much 

about  their  looks.     Youth  has  a  rare  perfection 
89 


Cheeefdl  To-days  and 

belonging  to  itself.  To  be  young  is  to  be  lovely, 
unless  the  young  face  be  spoiled  by  ill  temper 
or  self  will,  or  an  expression  of  contempt  or 
disdain.  A  clear  pure  complexion,  bright  eyes, 
smooth  hair,  are  within  the  grasp  of  anyone  who 
lives  according  to  the  laws  of  health,  eats  nour- 
ishing food,  takes  sufficient  sleep,  and  bathes 
with  regularity.  Water,  air,  food,  exercise, 
these  are  the  requirements  of  health,  and  health 
is  the  basis  of  beauty. 

Beyond  this  the  mind  enters  in  as  a  factor, 
and  the  mind  not  only  governs  the  body  but  per- 
vades it  as  a  lamp  scatters  the  darkness  in  a 
room.     A  lovely  soul  makes  a  lovely  face. 

I  have  seen  a  young  woman  reared  in  the  close 
surrounding  atmosphere  of  a  tenement  neigh- 
borhood, a  neighborhood  where  eighteen  hun- 
dred people  were  packed  and  crowded  into  one 
short  block.  That  girl  has  known  nothing  of 
sweetness  and  light.  Her  ears  have  heard 
coarse  words,  her  eyes  have  seen  dirt  and  dis- 
order, she  has  known  drunkenness  and  brutality, 
meanness  and  sordidness,  through  her  child- 
hood and  youth.  In  her  countenance  lived  no 
refinement   and   little   brightness.      Even   the 

usual  prettiness  of  girlhood  had  not  stamped  her 
90 


Trustful  To-morrows 

form  and  figure,  bowed  by  much  carrying  about 
of  heavy  babies  while  she  was  a  child  and  by 
strenuous  labor  in  a  hot  factory  when  she  first 
grew  up. 

Brought  into  the  pleasant  and  serene  atmos- 
phere of  a  Girls'  Club,  taught  that  the  world 
held  friends,  and  brought  to  know  the  best 
Friend,  I  have  seen  the  roughness  and  coarse- 
ness drop  from  such  a  nature,  as  a  withered  husk 
from  a  flower,  and  the  bud  open  in  strange 
purity  and  fragrance.  Day  by  day  there  has 
dawned  a  new  charm  in  the  features,  which  have 
visibly  softened;  day  by  day  a  lovelier  beauty 
has  been  marked,  as  gentleness  replaced  rude- 
ness and  love  did  its  mellowing  work. 

No  one  has  ever  engaged  in  a  hand  to  hand 
conflict  with  poverty  and  sin  without  seeing 
that,  as  Christ's  dear  ones  were  rescued  from  the 
adversary,  there  came  to  them  a  wonderful  im- 
provement of  personality  as  part  of  their 
redemption. 

In  our  cheerful  outlook  on  life  we  must  not 

forget  this  dominance  of  mind  over  body,  nor 

ignore  the  potentiality  of  the  spiritual  over  the 

material.     And  it  is  beneath  the  attention  of 

no  sensible  woman — or  man,  for  that  matter — 
91 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

to  care  enough  for  dress  to  make  dress  appro- 
priate to  every  occasion.  The  fashion  of  the 
hour  allows  much  latitude ;  we  may  be  costumed 
in  accordance  with  convenience  and  yet  not  out- 
rage public  opinion.  Our  girls  go  where  they 
wiU  in  short  skirts  and  thick  boots;  even  our 
elderly  women  adopt  a  toilette  for  storms  and 
rainy  weather  at  which  the  conservative  used  to 
shake  very  doubtful  heads.  A  little  study  of 
colors  and  shapes,  above  all  an  exquisite  neat- 
ness and  tidiness,  will  go  far  toward  making 
women  ideally  charming  in  their  homes. 

We  who  are  young  are  insensibly  making  the 
women  we  are  to  be  by  and  by.  The  girl  of 
twenty  is  the  artist  in  whose  hands  lies  her 
future  self  of  forty;  the  woman  of  forty,  and 
she  alone,  can  indicate  the  woman  of  sixty. 
Why  are  women  so  desperately  shy  of  lines  and 
wrinkles?  These  are  not  necessarily  deface- 
ments; they  are  often  enhancements  of  charm. 
Nothing  can  possibly  be  more  pitiful  than  an 
elderly  face  in  which  the  lines  are  painfully 
smoothed  out  by  anxious  massage  and  the  use 
of  cosmetics.  Life  should  write  its  history  in 
every  woman's  face.    The  comeliness  of  youth 

is  of  another  order  than  the  attractiveness  of  a 
92 


Trustful  To-moeeows 

later  period.  A  very  plain  young  woman  may  be 
handsome  in  middle  age,  and  a  singularly  beau- 
tiful girl  may  grow  ordinary  and  inconspicuous 
when  old.  In  the  eyes  of  husband,  father, 
brother  and  lover  beauty  is  not  a  mere  affair 
of  tint  and  air;  it  is  freely  accorded  to  those 
who  make  for  them  the  sunshine  of  their  days. 

To  the  Turk,  a  mountain  of  flesh  with  folds 
of  fat  hanging  from  her  chin  is  eminently  pleas- 
ing. For  the  Chinese,  the  spectacle  of  an 
enameled  lady  tottering  on  tiny  deformed  feet 
fills  perfectly  his  strange  ideal.  "We  look  for 
dignity,  composure,  and  gentleness,  and  as  their 
fitting  accompaniment  expect  symmetry  and 
grace. 

Euskin  sums  up  the  idea  of  the  modern 
woman  in  a  famous  passage:  "The  woman's 
power  is  for  rule,  not  for  battle,  and  her  intel- 
lect is  not  for  invention  or  creation,  but  for 
sweet  ordering,  arrangement  and  decision.  She 
sees  the  qualities  of  things,  their  claims  and 
their  places.  Her  great  function  is  Praise ;  she 
enters  into  no  contest,  but  infallibly  judges  the 
crown  of  contest.  By  her  office  and  place  she 
is  protected  from  all  danger  and  temptation. 

The  man  in  his  rough  work  in  the  open  world 
93 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

must  encounter  all  peril  and  trial;  to  him, 
therefore,  the  failure,  the  offense,  the  inevita- 
ble error ;  often  he  must  be  wounded  or  subdued, 
often  misled,  and  always  hardened.  But  he 
guards  the  woman  from  all  this;  within  his 
house,  as  ruled  by  her,  unless  she  herself  has 
sought  it,  need  enter  no  danger,  no  temptation, 
no  cause  of  error  or  offense.  This  is  the  true 
nature  of  home;  it  is  the  place  of  peace;  the 
shelter  not  only  from  all  injury  but  from  all 
terror,  doubt  and  division. 

''In  so  far  as  it  is  not  this  it  is  not  home.  So 
far  as  the  anxieties  of  the  outer  life  penetrate 
into  it,  and  the  inconsistently-minded,  un- 
known, unloved,  or  hostile  society  of  the  outer 
world  is  allowed  by  either  husband  or  wife  to 
cross  the  threshold,  it  ceases  to  be  home;  it  is 
then  only  a  part  of  that  outer  world  which  you 
have  roofed  over  and  lighted  fire  in.  But  so 
far  as  it  is  a  sacred  place,  a  vestal  temple,  a  tem- 
ple watched  over  by  the  household  gods  before 
whose  faces  none  may  come  but  those  whom 
they  can  receive  with  love,  so  far  as  it  is  this, 
and  roof  and  fire  are  types  only  of  a  nobler 
shade  and  light — shade  as  of  the  rocks  in  the 

weary  land,  and  light  as  of  the  Pharos  in  the 
94 


Trustful  To-moeeows 

stormy  sea — so  far  it  vindicates  the  name  and 
fulfills  the  praise  of  home." 

What  has  this  to  do  with  beauty?  Every- 
thing. For  beauty  is  harmony,  beauty  is  pro- 
portion, beauty  is  a  rhythm  in  which  there  is  no 
discord.  When  one  meets  a  thoroughly  poised 
and  balanced  nature  one  meets  beauty,  and  it  is 
instantly  recognized  and  immediately  begins 
its  work  of  beneficence. 

One  finds  it  difficult  and  elusive  when  one 
endeavors  to  give  it  definition.  Witness  the 
laborious  efforts  of  certain  novelists  who  have 
tried^to  depict  their  heroines,  telling  of  features, 
skin,  hair,  and  eyes,  and  leaving  one  as  ignorant 
at  the  end  as  at  the  beginning  of  the  real  ap- 
pearance of  the  subject.  So  truth-telling  a 
medium  as  the  camera  is  often  misleading,  for 
beauty  resides  in  expression  rather  than  in  ex- 
ternals which  grief  may  corrode,  illness  mar, 
and  the  advance  of  time  destroy. 

"I  have  never  before  met  people  with  such 

light  in  their  faces,"  said  one  who  entered  a 

company  where  Christ's  love  was  the  pervading 

note.     The  blessedness  and  the  purity  of  their 

high  communion  so  exalted  them  that  the  very 

lines  of  their  countenances  were  ennobled. 
95 


Cheerful  To-days  and 


CHAPTEK  XII 
Mothers  and  Sons 

The  mother  was  tall  and  fair  and  blue-eyed, 
a  well-balanced,  strong  and  cheery  woman. 
Her  boys  were  like  her;  her  daughter  repeated 
the  traits  of  her  poet  father,  and  was  slight, 
and  dark,  and  given  to  day  dreams.  It  was  a 
happy  household,  full  of  interest,  never  dull, 
never  two  days  alike;  it  had  as  many  changes 
and  varying  aspects  as  the  sky.  Around  it,  set 
in  its  beautiful  garden  oif  flowers — roses,  lilies, 
violets,  pansies,  every  sweet  blooming  and  per- 
fumed blossom  you  could  imagine — stretched 
the  endless  Florida  forests,  the  straight  pines 
standing  solemnly  like  sentries,  the  weird  moss 
draping  the  branches,  the  red  bird  and  the 
mocking  bird  flitting  to  and  fro. 

The  family  were  always  poor,  and  often  they 

had  no  balance  in  any  bank  save  that  of  faith, 

so  that  when  the  flour  was  low  in  the  barrel,  and 

the  meal  was  nearly  out,  the  mother  would  go  to 

her  closet  and  say  simply,  "Lord,  thou  seest  my 
96 


Trustful  To-moeeows 

need.  Send  help  soon.  Thou  openest  thine 
hand  and  satisfiest  the  desire  of  every  living 
thing.  Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread."  And 
that  day,  though  the  poems  sent  so  wistfully  to 
the  far-away  magazines  and  papers  at  the  north 
often  came  flying  back  with  a  polite  letter  of 
rejection,  there  would  come  instead  a  more  wel- 
come letter  with  a  check,  and  then  there  would 
be  a  fete  day.  A  neighbor,  anybody  within  four 
miles  was  a  neighbor,  would  lend  his  old  rock- 
away  and  his  staid  and  quiet  horse,  and  my 
friend  and  two  or  three  of  the  children  would 
jog  to  the  nearest  town  and,  as  she  gayly  said, 
provision  the  garrison. 

If  the  dear  house-mother  had  been  ever  so 
rich  she  would  still  have  had  to  do  her  own 
work,  in  that  vicinity,  for  everybody  else  did 
the  same,  and  help  from  outside  was  not  to 
be  had.  Husband  and  children  lent  their  will- 
ing hands,  and  there  was  no  housework  which 
the  boys  were  ashamed  or  afraid  to  undertake, 
from  dish  washing  to  the  harder  labor  of  the 
laundry.  These  lads,  who  could  iron  and  bake 
and  sweep  and  make  beds,  were  prepared  for 
college  by  their  parents,  and  successively  went 

there,  and  were  graduated  with  honors,  paying 
97 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

their  own  way  for  the  most  part,  and  enduring 
hardness  like  good  soldiers. 

I  used  to  receive  long  merry  letters  from  this 
brave  lady,  a  mother  of  men  who  fulfilled  my 
ideal  of  what  such  a  mother's  boys  should  be ; 
letters  bright,  chatty,  sparkling  with  wit  and 
anecdote,  written  by  bits  and  snatches  as  she 
waited  for  the  loaves  in  the  oven  to  brown,  or 
laid  aside  her  mending  for  a  moment's  rest. 
She  would  speak  of  the  lad  at  her  knee  reciting 
his  Latin  grammar  propped  up  before  her 
kneading  board,  or  would  apologize  for  an  in- 
terrupted paragraph  by  explaining  that  Don- 
ald had  just  called  her  to  come  to  his  den  and 
listen  to  his  last  story  or  ballad  before  he  sent 
it  away  on  its  voyage  in  search  of  a  port. 
"Somehow,"  she  would  add,  "Donald  thinks  the 
poems  have  a  better  chance  if  they  go  off  with 
my  blessing — ^mine ! — and  I  couldn't  write  a 
couplet  to  save  my  life."  She  could  do  better; 
she  could  be  her  husband's  inspiration  and  his 
cheery  comrade  on  the  roughest  road,  always 
heartening  him  by  her  quips  and  sallies,  always 
having  herself  the  grace  of  going  merrily 
onward. 

A  hard-working,  far-reaching,  useful  life  was 


Trustful  To-morrows 

this,  as  the  lives  of  good  mothers  must  ever  be. 
Her  sons  to-day  represent  her  in  many  fields, 
they  are  active  in  countless  endeavors  for  good; 
they  are  the  unselfish,  loyal  and  devoted  hus- 
bands that  such  a  mother  could  train  to  lift  a 
little  the  burden  of  the  great  vrorld. 

To  speak  of  the  mother-brooding  which  en- 
folds the  opening  years  of  a  man's  life  as  the 
dearest  experience  which  life  will  ever  hold  for 
him  may  be  in  a  sense  untrue.  Man  must  live 
through  multiform  experiences  and  taste  many 
a  cup  divinely  brewed.  There  are  for  him  sac- 
ramental days  which  lift  him  up  to  a  plane  of 
almost  heavenly  joy  here  and  there  on  his  prog- 
ress through  the  world.  The  day  when  he  defi- 
nitely decides  to  stand  for  Christ  against  the 
temptations  of  lower  ambition  and  mere  tem- 
poral advantage  is  forever  after  starred  for  him 
in  happiest  memory. 

The  day  when  he  finds  his  ideal  enshrined  in 
a  fair  woman,  and  she  returns  his  love  in  sweet 
trustfulness  and  gracious  surrender,  is  thence- 
forward a  glad  anniversary. 

The  day  when  the  cry  of  the  firstborn  is  in  the 

house  and  the  sweetness  of  heaven  haloes  the 

face  of  the  mother  is  set  apart  as  the  day  of  the 
99 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

solemn  feast,  of  the  crowning  and  the  laurel. 
Yet,  more  and  more,  as  time  goes  on  and  youth 
passes,  the  heart  of  the  son  turns  yearningly  to 
the  golden  dawn  when  mother  love  made  his 
childhood  safe  and  sheltered  and  beautiful. 

There  is  something  of  the  woman  nature  in 
every  finely  tempered  man,  as  the  best  women, 
on  the  other  hand,  have  derived  something  from 
the  father.  Each  sex  complements  the  other  in 
a  mysterious  but  evident  exchange  of  gifts,  so 
that,  were  such  a  thing  possible,  a  wholly  fem- 
inine woman  would  be  not  altogether  pleasing, 
and  a  wholl}'^  masculine  man  would  be  somewhat 
too  arbitrary,  if  not  too  overbearing  and  per- 
haps brutal  of  type.  In  the  highest  style  of 
manhood  and  womanhood  we  find  the  human 
element  composed  of  the  best  in  both  halves  of 
the  race,  so  that  daughters  are  often  most  like 
fathers,  and  sons  most  like  mothers,  from  a  law 
which  goes  deep  into  the  primitive  conditions  of 
being.  The  mother  who  would  see  her  sons  grow 
np  worthily  must  not  count  her  life  dear  in  the 
years  when  they  are  under  her  molding  hand. 
She  must  share  their  pursuits  from  the  era  of 
balls  and  tops  to  the  era  of  falling  in  love. 

Ifever  to  lose  her  bov's  confidence  is  the 


Trustful  To-morrows 

wisest  counsel  which  can  be  given  a  mother,  but 
how  is  she  to  attain  this  end  ?  Only  by  putting 
and  keeping  her  boys  first.  Only  by  subordinat- 
ing other  engagements,  of  pleasure,  of  society, 
of  church  work,  of  philanthropy,  to  the  more 
important  appointments  she  has  in  the  nursery, 
on  the  playground  and  around  the  evening 
lamp.  She  should  know  her  boys'  companions, 
and  be  their  friend,  and  partially  their 
confidante. 

A  woman  whose  sweet  face  rises  in  my 
thought  has  done  this  for  her  son,  though  she 
has  been  handicapped  by  continual  literal  bond- 
age to  her  couch  of  pain  during  the  years  of  his 
childhood  and  youth.  Unable  to  bear  her 
weight  on  the  floor  or  to  walk  a  single  step,  un- 
able to  turn  herself  in  bed  without  assistance, 
this  woman's  indomitable  will  has  united  with 
her  Christian  courage  to  keep  her  from  casting 
a  shadow  on  the  wholesome  sunshine  of  her 
boy's  life.  She  has  kept  pace  with  him  in  his 
studies  and  his  games,  has  interviewed  his 
teachers,  stimulated  him  to  sustained  endeavor, 
and  given  him  a  knowledge  of  what  God's  love 
can  make  of  woman  when  tried  in  the  furnace 

and  seven  times  purified. 
8  101 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

If  a  woman  worn  with  bodily  pain  and  spent 
with  weakness  may  do  so  much,  what  may  not 
one  accomplish  whose  life  is  unfettered  and  who 
is  free  to  go  and  come  as  she  chooses  ? 

One  has  only  to  see  how  quickly  the  ailing, 
sobbing  baby  hushes  its  querulous  cries  when 
taken  up  in  the  arms  of  a  tender  and  loving 
man,  its  father  or  another,  with  a  compassion- 
ate heart,  to  realize  the  secret  of  strength  and 
gentleness  combined,  to  get  at  the  core  of  the 
Psalmist's  meaning  when  he  exclaims,  "Thy 
gentleness  hath  made  me  great."  Passing  the 
love  of  women,  passing  the  tenderness  of  women, 
are  the  love  and  the  tenderness  of  men  in 
relations  which  draw  closely  upon  their  reserves 
of  sympathy.  A  boy  who  studies  the  needs  and 
devotes  himself  to  the  comfort  of  an  invalid 
mother  will  make  a  considerate  husband  to  some 
happy  woman.  What  the  French  call  petits 
soins  come  readily  to  men  who  have  had  at  times 
in  their  lives  to  look  out  for  the  welfare  of  some- 
what dependent  kinswomen. 

But  there  is  another  side  of  the  shield. 

When  the  boys  go  out  from  the  home  nest  to 

the  larger  world,  perhaps  to  business,  perhaps 

to  college,  the  wise  mother  still  keeps  in  touch 
102 


Teustpul  To-morrows 

with  them.  A  good  many  young  people  in  this 
land  have  heard  of  Hugh  Beaver,  that  splendid 
fellow  whose  life  ended  on  earth  at  twenty-four, 
two  years  ago,  and  who  suddenly  heard  the 
Master's  call  to  "Come  up  higher!"  When 
Hugh  went  to  college  his  biographer  says  that 
he  was  "a  straight-forward,  genial,  sunny- 
hearted  boy,  but  the  more  serious  problems  of 
an  earnest  life  lay  before  him,  and  the  deeper 
springs  of  his  character  and  power  were  still 
sealed."  His  mother  wrote  to  him  about  this 
time,  "I  hope,  darling,  you  have  learned  the 
comfort  of  taking  everything  to  God  in  prayer. 
Nothing  is  too  trifling.  Be  sure  to  pray  before 
leaving  your  room  in  the  morning.  We  need 
our  Father's  help  and  guidance  in  all  that  we 
do.  May  the  Lord  bless  you,  and  enable  you  to 
live  a  consistent  useful  life  to  his  praise  and 
glory,  is  the  prayer  of  your  loving  mother." 

A  certain  strange  reluctance  comes  between 
some  mothers  and  their  sons,  when  matters  re- 
lating to  the  Christian  life  are  in  concern.  If 
we  were  close  to  our  Lord  would  we  not  be  able 
to  overcome  this  shyness?  Yet  often  the 
younger  heart  is  waiting  and  longing  for  the 

word  of  counsel,  is  earnestly  desiring  that  the 
103 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

older  one  may  take  the  initiative  in  the  conver- 
sation. I  would  that  mothers  should  not  only 
pray  for  but  with  their  sons,  kneeling  beside  the 
bed  at  night,  drawing  them  now  and  again  into 
their  own  chambers  for  a  little  tender  twilight 
talk.  We  are  too  cowardly  when  we  shrink 
from  speaking  of  the  dear  Lord,  and  hesitate 
to  introduce  his  name  into  our  daily  talk  in  the 
household. 

So  it  happens  that  opportunities  are  lost. 
Souls  have  been  almost  in  contact,  but  have 
glided  apart.  Each  goes  its  separate  way.  The 
friend  of  Christ — ah  me !  was  that  friend  a 
mother  ? — has  been  silent,  and  timorous,  and  so 
the  Beloved  has  withdrawn  himself  and  is  gone. 
Looking  at  her  sturdy  little  man,  mother  may 
feel  like  saying : 

"My  laddie,  O  my  laddie,  I  am  wistful  as  I  clasp 
Your  little  hand  within  my  own,  and  think  how 
many  men 
Gone  far  from  earth  and  memory,  beyond  our  mortal 
grasp. 
Are  living  and  are  breathing,  dear  child,   in  you 
again. 

"My  laddie  of  the  golden  hair,  there  stand  at  God's 
right  hand 
His  saints  who  went  through  blood  and  flame,  the 
yeomen  of  our  line  ; 

104 


Trustful  To-moeeows 

And  there  are  seraphs  singing  in  the  glorious  better 
land 
Whose  heart-beats  kept,  when  here  on  earth,  the 
pace  of  yours  and  mine. 

"Kneel,  little  laddie,  at  my  side ;  there's  no  defense 
like  this. 
An  evening  prayer  in  childish  trust,  and   let   him 
scoff  who  may ; 
A  daily  prayer  to  God  above,  a  gentle  mother's  kiss. 
Will  keep  my  little  laddie  safe,  however  dark  the 
day." 

"What  shall  I  do  about  taking  my  restless 
boys  to  church  ?"  asked  a  mother  of  a  dear  aged 
minister  who  had  been  her  girlhood's  pastor. 
"They  do  not  understand  the  services,  and  find 
them  tedious ;  they  fidget  and  complain  of  Sun- 
day as  a  "wearisome  day.  Would  I  not  do  better 
to  postpone  their  church-going  until  they  are 
older?" 

"No/'  was  the  reply.  "Train  them  up  in  the 
way  they  should  go.  By  accustoming  them  to 
constant  attendance  in  God's  house,  you  will 
form  in  them  a  good  habit."  We  are  unfortu- 
nately bringing  up  a  generation  which  does  not 
feel  the  obligation  of  keeping  holy  the  Lord's 
Day,  which  acts  its  own  pleasure,  not  seeks  to 
know  God's  will  in  this  matter.    Mothers  must 

look  to  this  and  reform  it. 
105 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

Indeed  they  can.  And  here  let  me  add  that 
good  behavior  in  church  is  just  as  important  as 
good  behavior  anywhere  else,  and  part  of  it 
begins  at  the  very  beginning ;  in  being  in  church 
a  little  while  before  the  service  commences.  In 
our  home  in  my  childhood,  at  family  worship, 
my  father  had  a  way,  which  I  remember  pleas- 
antly in  contrast  with  the  hurrying  methods  of 
to-day,  of  starting  everything  with  a  margin, 
so  that  nobody  should  be  late.  He  insisted  that 
the  young  people  of  the  house  should  always 
come  to  prayers  if  they  were  well,  and  he  him- 
self, Bible  in  hand,  would  be  seated  five  minutes 
before  the  appointed  time,  waiting  for  us  all  to 
come.  I  can  see  him  now  across  the  years,  his 
gray  hair  brushed  back  from  his  serene  face,  his 
eyes  lighted  with  a  rare  inner  smile,  his  look 
expressing  the  greatest  patience. 

"I  like  to  compose  my  mind,"  he  would  say, 
'^before  I  enter  the  presence  of  the  King." 

1  can  hear  him  softly  crooning  his  favorite 

hymn,  if  I  lean  back  in  my  chair  and  listen — 

hear  it  as  if  the  voice  which  sung  these  stanzas 

had  not  been  for  many  long  years  singing  with 

the  Eedeemer  above.    And  his  voice  was  very 

sweet  as  he  sang: 

106 


Tbustful  To-moeeows 

"How  happy  are  they 

Who  the  Saviour  obey, 
And  have  laid  up  their  treasure  above. 

O  what  tongue  can  express 

The  sweet  comfort  and  peace 
Of  a  soul  in  its  earliest  love." 

One  of  the  unvn-itten  laws  always  observed 
in  this  good  man's  home  was  that  nobody  should 
be  tardy  to  church.  This  habit  clings  to  me 
still.  I  am  distressed  and  humiliated  if  ever  by 
accident  I  am  so  late  that  I  must  walk  down  the 
aisle  after  the  pastor  has  begun  the  service.  It 
seems  to  me  as  impolite  to  be  late  at  church  as 
to  be  late  at  any  other  function  which  has  a 
fixed  hour  for  starting. 

Besides,  it  is  really  unnecessary.  The  habit- 
ually tardy  person  usually  catches  his  train,  if 
this  is  important  in  his  day's  engagements,  and 
the  train  labeled,  ''Divine  service,  half -past  ten 
o'clock,"  can  be  as  easily  caught  if  one  chooses 
to  take  pains  in  the  matter. 

I  hold  that  the  thoroughly  well-bred  person 
will  be  well  behaved  in  church.  He  or  she  will 
sit  still.  He  will  not  whisper,  she  will  not  gig- 
gle, neither  will  comment  on  the  people  who 
have  come  to  church,  neither  will  make  secular 

engagements  while  service  is  going  on.     Above 
107 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

all  things  no  decently  behaved  person  "will  read 
printed  calendars,  or  turn  over  leaflets,  or  pull 
letters  from  his  pocket,  or  fumble  through  the 
hymn-book,  while  the  Commandments  or  the 
Scripture  lessons  are  being  read.  I  have  seen 
well-dressed  and  intelligent  people  doing  these 
things,  and  they  were  convicted  of  impoliteness 
and  lack  of  training  by  their  actions. 

Crowning  impropriety  of  all,  no  one  with  any 
claim  to  good  breeding  will  pull  out  a  watch 
and  consult  it  during  the  service. 

I  observe  that  many  persons  coming  late 
into  church  drop  their  heads  upon  their  pews  for 
their  private  devotions  with  no  reference  to 
what  is  going  on  at  the  moment.  This  does  not 
seem  to  me  quite  right.  A  better  way  is  to 
unite  in  whatever  part  of  the  service  is  in  prog- 
ress; one's  own  little  prayer  being  supposed  to 
anticipate  the  entire  worship,  not  to  interject 
itself  on  the  worship  which  is  appointed.  As 
the  old  Psalm  has  it,  we  may  declare : 

"I  joyed  when  to  the  house  of  God 

Go  up,  they  said  to  me. 
Jerusalem,  within  thy  gates 
Our  feet  shall  standing  be." 

*1t  I  forget  thee,  0  Jerusalem,  let  my  right 

hand  forget  her  cunning.'*    "I  would  rather  be  a 
108 


Trustful  To-moeeows 

doorkeeper  in  the  house  of  my  God  than  to  dwell 
in  the  tents  of  wickedness." 

This  is  the  heart's  cry  of  the  generation  which 
are  brought  up  to  serve  the  King  in  his  sacred 
courts. 

In  the  intercourse  of  families  there  is  often 
too  little  demonstration.  Affection  should 
freely  express  itself.  We  are  much  too  apt  to 
take  for  granted  the  fact  that  we  love  one  an- 
other. In  the  tridy  well-regulated  Christian 
household  there  is  little  need  for  discipline  as 
expressed  in  punishment.  Coercion  is  un- 
heard of.  A  habit  of  referring  everything  to  the 
arbitration  of  the  Heavenly  Father  keeps  dis- 
obedience to  the  earthly  parents  far  from  the 
happy  fold.  The  mother  should  not  exact  of 
her  boys  submission  to  her  authority  because  she 
intimates  a  wish ;  she  stands  to  them  as  one  who 
is  carrying  out  the  will  of  God,  and  who  desires 
to  help  them  to  understand  and  obey  the  same 
sweet  will.  There  can  be  no  jars  in  a  home 
attuned  to  the  Divine  harmonies.  Let  the 
mother  dwell  with  God  and  her  children  will  be 
brought  into  God's  Kingdom. 

"I  saw  the  Holy  Spirit  shining  in  my  mother's 

face  through  all  my  boyhood,"  said  a  college 
109 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

professor,  "and  her  piety  and  faithfulness  drew 
us,  a  large  family,  safe  into  the  service  of  the 
Master,  though  our  father  was  not  a  Christian 
until  we  were  all  grown  up." 

A  mother  should  be  satisfied  for  her  children 
with  no  development  but  the  best,  and  the  best 
is  not  found  outside  of  that  company  in  which 
Jesus  is  the  chief  and  the  dearest  guest. 

"In  the  secret  of  his  presence 
From  the  hurrying  world  I  hide, 

In  the  secret  of  his  presence 
Very  safely  I  abide. 

And  he  gives  me  many  a  sign 
Of  his  grace  and  love  divine. 

"Care  and  labor  are  my  portion, 

Toil  and  care  till  evensong, 
But  the  hours,  though  often  weary. 

Never  drag  their  load  along. 
For  the  blessing  of  the  Master 

Makes  the  heaviest  burden  light. 
In  the  secret  of  his  presence 

When  I  dwell  from  morn  till  night. 

"In  the  secret  of  his  presence 

Any  cross  he  bids  me  take. 
Garlanded  with  sweetest  flowers. 

Wears  the  legend  'For  his  sake.' 
I  am  happy  as  I  serve  him, 

Happy  as  I  walk  the  road 
Which  my  Master  went  before  me. 

Straight  unto  the  throne  of  God. 
For  he  gives  me  many  a  sign 

Of  his  grace  and  power  divine" 
110 


Trustful  To-moeeows 


CHAPTEE  XIII 
Linked  with  Many  Lives 

The  recluse  shuts  himself  in  his  study,  finds 
delight  in  his  books  or  his  musings  and  shuns 
society.  He  may  do  no  man  wrong,  he  may 
even  do  good  after  a  fashion  of  his  own,  but  he 
lives  a  self-centered  and  self-absorbed  life.  It 
is  better  that  one  should  touch  others  at  many 
points,  that  one  should  be  interested  in  his  fel- 
lows, that  more  and  more  one  should  seek  to 
know  and  to  care  for  persons  outside  of  his  own 
immediate  circle,  and  to  observe  life  and  affairs 
from  a  viewpoint  that  is  not  wholly  one's  own. 

At  an  early  age  the  threads  of  contact  with 

other  homes  begin  to  weave  themselves  into  the 

woof  of  our  being.     First  the  kindred  are  our 

only  associates,  the  father,  mother,  grandfather 

and    grandmother,    brothers,    sisters,    uncles, 

aunts,  cousins.     The  family  feeling  strikes  deep 

roots;  we  care  for  those  of  our  own  blood,  we 

belong  to  them,   and  they  to  us.     But  with 

school  days  we  begin  to  form  our  friendships 

beyond  the  threshold  of  the  home.     There  is  a 
111 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

little  golden-haired  girl  who  sits  beside  us  in  the 
class,  there  is  a  shock-headed  boy  who  walks 
home  from  school  with  us,  and  we  learn  through 
intercourse  with  them  that  there  are  people 
worth  knowing  in  the  world  besides  those  who 
live  at  our  house.  I  sat  beside  a  child's  desk 
this  summer  in  a  little  red  schoolhouse  in  the 
mountains  and  Whittier's  lines  came  back 
to  me: 

"Still  sits  the  schoolhouse  by  the  road, 

A  ragged  beggar  sleeping; 
Around  it  still  the  sumachs  grow 

And  blackberry  vines  are  creeping. 

"Within,  the  master's  desk  is  seen 

Deep  scarred  by  raps  oflBcial, 
The  warping  floor,  the  battered  seats. 

The  jackknife's  carved  initial. 

"The  charcoal  frescoes  on  its  wall. 

Its  door's  worn  sill,  betraying 
The  feet  that,  creeping  slow  to  school, 

Went  storming  out  to  playing ! 

"Long  years  ago  a  winter  sun 

Shone  over  it  at  setting; 
Lit  up  its  western  window  panes 

And  low  eaves'  icy-fretting. 

"It  touched  the  tangled  golden  curls 
And  brown  eyes,  full  of  grieving. 

Of  one  who  still  her  steps  delayed 
When  all  the  school  were  leaving. 
112 


Trustful  To-morrows 

"For  near  her  stood  the  little  boy 

Her  childish  favor  singled  ; 
His  cap  pulled  low  upon  a  face 

Where  pride  and  shame  were  mingled. 

"Pushing  with  restless  feet  the  snow 
To  right  and  left  he  lingered ; 

As  restlessly  her  tiny  hands 

The  blue  checked  apron  fingered. 

"He  saw  her  lift  her  eyes  ;  he  felt 
The  soft  hand's  light  caressing, 

And  heard  the  tremble  of  her  voice 
As  if  a  fault  confessing. 

"  'I'm  sorry  that  I  spelt  the  word ; 

I  hate  to  go  above  you. 
Because,'  the  brown  eyes  lower  fell, 

'Because,  you  see,  I  love  you.' 

"Still  memory  to  a  gray-haired  man 
That  sweet  child-face  is  showing ; 

Dear  girl,  the  grasses  o'er  her  grave 
Have  forty  years  been  growing, 

"He  lives  to  learn  in  life's  hard  school 
How  few  who  pass  above  him 

Lament  their  triumph  and  his  loss 
Because,  like  her,  they  love  him." 


Some  of  my  happiest  recollections  are  of  my 

school  days  when  I  was  a  rosy  romping  child 

drawn  to  school  over  the  snow  on  a  pla3Tnate's 

sled.     The  red  apples  and  doughnuts  which 

we  shared  at  luncheon  had  a  toothsome  flavor 
113 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

unsurpassed  by  any  delicate  viands  of  later 
years.  As  a  child  of  ten,  in  a  school  on  the 
banks  of  the  Passaic  conducted  by  three  lovely 
sisters  who  have  gone  to  their  rest,  leaving  be- 
hind them  the  record  of  a  fruitful  life  full  of 
faithful  work  for  the  Master,  I  formed  some  of 
life's  most  lasting  friendships.  Still,  in  our 
autumn,  women  who  were  girls  with  me  in  the 
sweet  spring  of  our  days  come  to  sit  beside  my 
fire,  and  to  talk  over  the  lessons  we  were  taught 
by  Miss  Anna  and  Miss  Elizabeth  Rogers.  Our 
beautiful  sainted  Miss  Jane  went  very  early  to 
the  other  land,  ere  her  youth  had  faded,  and 
while  her  cheek  was  round  and  her  dark  eyes 
bright  with  the  light  of  love  and  joy. 

From  those  dear  teachers  I  first  learned  that 
life  cannot  be  lived  alone,  that  each  life  must 
link  itself  with  many  others.  We  are  partakers 
of  that  Divine  nature  which  gathers  to  its  breast 
and  bears  upon  its  everlasting  arms  the  suc- 
cessive generations  of  our  race.  In  God's  heart 
there  is  room  for  all.  Our  Saviour  in  his  won- 
derful prayer  before  he  left  the  world  included 
his  own  who  should  believe  in  him  to  every  age, 
and  the  sweet  meaning  comforts  us  in  all  tribu- 
lation ;  the  tender  fullness  of  that  prayer  makes 
114 


Teustful  To-moreows 

glad  our  waste  places,  and  feeds  our  soul  hun- 
ger. Reverently  may  we  in  one  respect  com- 
pare ourselves  with  God,  for,  made  in  his  image, 
he  has  not  habited  us  in  mean  raiment,  or  com- 
pelled us  to  dwell  in  cramped  quarters.  Our 
souls  live  in  palaces  many-chambered,  and  fair, 
and  in  one  room  we  receive  some  of  our  guests, 
and  in  another  we  welcome  others,  and  there 
are  beautiful  withdrawing  rooms  where  we  hold 
converse  with  our  very  dearest  dear. 

We  need  not  be  afraid  of  making  new  friend- 
ships. Love  in  its  supremest  royalty  comes 
not  to  everyone.  There  are  beautiful  natures 
which,  for  one  reason  or  another,  dwell  in  sin- 
gleness throughout  their  pilgrimage,  but  these 
are  very  often  most  generously  endowed  with  a 
capacity  for  making  and  keeping  friends. 

Besides,  in  the  changes  of  the  swiftly  moving 
years,  the  landscape  of  our  lives  is  always  sub- 
ject to  alteration. 

"Friend  after  friend  departs. 

Who  hath  not  lost  a  friend? 
There  is  no  union  here  of  hearts 

That  finds  not  here  an  end." 

We  must  keep  adding  to  our  stock  of  friends, 

must  be  responsive  to  new  claimants,  must  keep 
115 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

open  doors  for  the  good  and  the  true.  How  de- 
lightful it  is  to  think  not  only  of  all  the  pleasant 
people  we  have  met  but  of  the  unknown  visit- 
ants whom  we  are  yet  to  meet.  We  never  go 
to  an  unfamiliar  town,  to  a  mountain  or  sea- 
side hostelry,  to  a  little  hamlet  high  up  and  hid- 
den away  in  the  hills,  that  we  do  not  discover 
somebody  who  on  one  side  of  our  nature  attracts 
us ;  somebody  whom  we  can  bless  by  our  giving 
or  from  whom  we  can  take  a  blessing. 

We  retain  our  youth  by  our  susceptibility  to 
friendship.  He  who  has  lost  desire  to  win  and 
pleasure  in  keeping  friends  has  gone  far  into  the 
shadowy  realm  of  old  age.  Selfishness  may 
breed  a  premature  decrepitude  of  the  affections. 
We  must  be  careful  not  to  lose  interest  in  our 
neighbors,  not  to  become  indifferent  to  ac- 
quaintances— ^new  or  of  longer  standing. 

Our  lives  may  go  out  into  all  the  earth  if  we 
are  coworkers  in  the  great  missionary  move- 
ments for  evangelizing  the  world.  Away  off  in 
'New  Mexico,  many  miles  from  kith  and  kin, 
in  a  community  where  none  but  themselves 
speak  English,  two  brave  girls  are  teaching 
little  children  the  way  of  life,  and  showing 

to  those  around  them  the  light  of  a  Christian 
116 


Trustful  To-morbows 

home.  God  bless  our  fearless  home  mission- 
aries, working  steadfastly  for  him  in  dark  cor- 
ners where  they  face  peril,  loneliness  and  dis- 
couragement. Out  in  Dakota,  in  a  sod  house, 
dwell  a  missionary  family,  father,  mother,  chil- 
dren, in  poverty  and  privation,  fighting  for  the 
Master,  and  making  a  center  for  his  disciples 
to  gather  around  him.  Shall  we  not  care  for 
these — not  merely  by  sending  a  box  or  a  barrel, 
now  and  then,  filled  with  needed  clothing 
and  household  supplies — by  our  prayers,  our 
thoughts,  our  love? 

Far  over  the  ocean,  in  N'orthem  India,  in 
China,  in  Japan,  in  the  Islands  under  our  flag, 
there  are  heroic  men  and  women  toiling  "In  His 
Name."  Our  beloved  foreign  missionaries  are 
too  often  forgotten  when  they  are  off,  beyond 
our  sight  and  hearing,  in  the  remoteness  of  their 
exile. 

"The  greatest  hardship  the  missionary  has 

to  bear,"  says  Dr.  E.  B.  Peary,  "is  his  loneliness 

and  isolation.     Separated  almost  entirely  from 

his  own  race,  he  is  deprived  of  all  those  social 

]oys  that  are  so  dear  to  him.     The  thought  of 

his  kinsmen  and  friends  is  ever  in  his  mind,  but, 

alas!  they  are  so  far  away.     He  must  go  on, 
9  117 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

year  after  year,  living  among  a  people  from 
whom  an  impassable  gulf  separates  him,  leading 
the  same  lonely  life.  For  the  first  year  or  two 
he  rather  enjoys  the  quiet  and  privacy,  but  by 
and  by  it  becomes  almost  unendurable." 

Dr.  Edmund  Lawrence,  on  the  same  subject 
thus  sums  up  the  whole  matter,  "Very  many 
of  the  missionary's  heaviest  burdens  are  in- 
cluded in  the  one  word,  whose  height  and 
breadth  and  length  and  depth  none  knows  so 
well  as  he — the  word  'exile.'  It  is  not  merely 
a  physical  exile  from  home  and  country  and  all 
their  interests;  it  is  not  only  an  intellectual 
exile  from  all  that  would  feed  and  stimulate  the 
mind;  it  is  yet  more,  a  spiritual  exile  from  the 
guidance,  the  instruction,  the  support,  the  fel- 
lowship and  the  communion  of  the  church  at 
home." 

Furthermore,  after  a  few  years  of  absence, 

the  missionary  hears  seldom  from  the  home 

land,  except  as  official  communications  come 

from  the  boards  of  the  church,  or  epistles  arrive 

from  his  immediate  family.    *'Even  these  latter 

become  less  and  less  frequent.     The  arrival  of 

the  mails,  which  at  first  was  looked  forward  to 

with  so  much  joy,  is  now  scarcely  noted.     After 
118 


Tkustful  To-morbows 

a  few  years  of  residence  in  the  East  one  feels 
that  he  is  largely  out  of  touch  with  the  life  of 
the  West,  and  that  he  is  forgotten  by  home  and 
friends." 

Here  may  some  of  us  not  discover  a  mission  ? 
May  we  not  devote  some  part  of  our  time  to  the 
sending  of  good  cheer  to  our  foreign  mission- 
aries? Not  writing  them  perfunctory  letters, 
nor  filling  those  we  do  send  with  exclusively 
religious  news,  but  giving  them  glimpses  of  our 
life  at  home,  of  our  books,  our  music,  our  pic- 
tures, and  our  household  gayeties.  Even  our 
new  bonnets  may  interest  a  missionary  woman 
living  where  nobody  wears  a  bonnet. 

The  main  thing  is  to  remember  that  no  man 
liveth  to  himself  and  no  man  dieth  to  himself; 
that  we  are  bound  in  one  bundle,  and  must  bear 
one  another's  burdens,  and,  if  we  would  be 
Christ-like,  must  keep  in  touch  with  many  lives. 

Shall  I  show  you  a  leaf,  now,  from  the  daily 
life  of  a  home  missionary? 

The  wind  whistled  and  the  snow  sifted  into 

every  crevice  of  the  log  cabin  in  which  Mr.  and 

Mrs.  Harmstead  and  their  children  had  made 

their  home  for  the  last  six  months.     They  had 

carefully  stuffed  every  aperture  with  rags  and 
119 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

paper,  and  covered  the  walls  with  pictures  cut 
from  the  old  numbers  of  Harper's  Weehly  and 
other  periodicals  which  found  their  way  to  this 
little  Western  home.  Still,  there  were  nooks 
and  crannies  which  neither  wife  nor  husband 
could  make  so  weathertight  that  they  were 
proof  against  the  wild  storms  of  the  region.  A 
year  ago  their  home  had  been  more  comfortable, 
but  in  a  fierce  cyclone,  months  before,  the  little 
frame  house  had  been  blown  down,  and  the  only 
place  in  which  the  missionary  and  his  wife  could 
find  shelter  was  this  little  log  cabin,  originally 
built  by  a  settler  who  had  in  time  abandoned  it 
for  more  comfortable  quarters.  The  church 
next  door  was  really  a  better  refuge  against 
winter  storms  than  the  house  in  which  the  min- 
ister had  his  dwelling.  Indeed,  there  were  oc- 
casions when  Mrs.  Harmstead  was  compelled  to 
hurry  her  brood  out  of  the  cabin  and  into  the 
church  that  they  might  sleep  in  some  degree  of 
warmth  and  comfort.  The  benches  on  which 
the  children  sat  at  the  table  belonged  to  the 
church,  and  were  carried  in  there  for  services 
on  Sundays,  and  on  week  days  when  the  people 
came  to  prayer  meeting. 

This  morning  it  seemed  to  the  Harmsteads 
120 


Trustful  To-moeeows 

that  it  would  be  safer  to  move  over  into  the 
church  tm  the  weather  changed.  So,  taking  a 
few  necessary  cooking  utensils  and  what  bed- 
ding they  could  carry,  the  family  migrated, 
fearing  that  the  storm  woiild  make  it  impossible 
for  them  to  do  so  later  in  the  day.  The  church 
could  at  least  be  made  comfortable. 

Once  settled  there,  Mr.  Harmstead  seated 
himself  in  a  corner  to  study  his  sermon  for  the 
next  day,  while  his  wife  established  the  chil- 
dren with  their  books  and  toys,  and  herself  read 
for  the  twentieth  time  a  letter  which  had 
reached  her  a  day  or  two  previous. 

The  letter  was  from  the  ladies  of  the  church 
at  home  to  which  she  had  belonged  in  her  girl- 
hood. When  Emily  Fuller  married  Duncan 
Harmstead  there  was  no  prettier  girl  or  fairer 
bride  in  all  the  township  and  surrounding 
country.  A  college  graduate,  she  was  familiar 
with  the  best  that  books  and  art  could  give  her, 
and  her  home  had  been  replete  with  every  re- 
finement and  the  comforts  which  people  in 
ordinary  circumstances  in  the  East  enjoy  as  a 
matter  of  course.  Going  with  her  husband  to 
his  field  of  service  in  Nebraska,  the  young  wife 

understood  that  she  was  accepting  hardness, 
121 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

and  that  self-denial  and  privation  would  to 
some  extent  be  her  portion.  The  years,  seven, 
since  her  marriage  day,  had  flown  rapidly  along, 
but  they  had  done  the  work  of  fourteen  on  the 
sweet  face  of  the  woman  who  had  shared  pov- 
erty, labor,  and  many  a  grief  at  her  husband's 
side,  always  uncomplainingly,  though  the  many 
cares  had  left  their  mark  upon  her  nature.  She 
was  less  hopeful  now  than  once,  and  sometimes 
her  buoyant  faith  failed  her  for  a  little  time.  It 
sometimes  seemed  as  if  God  had  forgotten  her. 
Often  she  said  to  herself,  "If  my  dear  ones  at 
home  realized  the  daily  suffering  of  a  mission- 
ary's lot,  surely  they  would  do  something  to 
lighten  it."  By  a  series  of  circumstances  not 
unusual  in  families,  those  nearest  of  kin  to  her 
had  either  died  or  become  so  impoverished  that 
they  could  give  her  little  substantial  help,  and 
Mr.  Harmstead  was  a  man  with  few  relatives 
on  whom  to  call.  The  salary  of  a  home  mis- 
sionary is  small  at  best.  In  the  case  of  Mr. 
Harmstead  it  was  seldom  fully  paid  and  never 
promptly.  The  Board  sent  some  aid  to  the 
struggling  Western  church,  but  there  was  al- 
ways a  great  discrepancy  between  income  and 

outgo  on  the  part  of  both  the  missionary  and 
122 


Trustful  To-morrows 

the  church.  The  letter  read  as  follows.  Mrs. 
Harmstead  knew  it  by  heart : 

"Dear  Emily  :  Your  old  friends  in  Hazleton 
Church  wish  to  send  you  a  present  which  will 
be  just  what  you  want.  iNTow,  with  the  utmost 
frankness,  will  you  let  us  know  what  to  pack  in 
the  barrel  or  barrels  which  we  are  sending  to 
your  far-away  home.  Do  not  fail  to  tell  us  just 
what  you  and  the  good  man  and  the  bairns  are 
most  in  want  of,  and  so  far  as  we  can  we  will 
try  to  meet  your  needs.  We  consider  this  a 
privilege,  and  are  only  sorry  that  it  did  not 
sooner  occur  to  us  that  for  our  missionary  we 
might  take  one  dear  lady  who  grew  up  among 
us  and  whom  we  fondly  remember." 

The  letter  had  touched  a  very  tender  chord 

in  Mrs.  Harmstead's  heart,  and  as  she  sat  down 

to  answer  it  she  was  divided  between  the  wish 

to  state  exactly  her  needs  and  a  little  feeling  of 

delicacy  in  revealing  the  extent  of  her  poverty. 

She  decided  at  last  that  candor  was  the  only 

course;  that  as  God  had  opened  this  door  for 

her  it  was  her  place  to  walk  through  it,  not 

thinking  about  the  impression  she  would  make 

on  her  old  friends,  but  merely  telling  the  exact 

truth.     So  taking  her  pad  and  pencil,  for  the 
123 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

minister  was  using  the  only  inkstand  and  the 
only  pen  they  possessed,  she  said : 

"Dear  Friends  :  I  have  hesitated  a  little  how 
to  answer  your  kindest  of  letters,  hut  I  have 
resolved  at  last  that  the  only  thing  for  me  to  do 
is  to  be  entirely  truthful.  We  are  literally  in 
need  of  everything.  My  husband  is  destitute 
of  underclothing  (on  another  slip  of  paper  I 
give  you  his  size) .  He  has  no  overcoat  and  this 
weather  is  freezing.  Last  winter  he  wore  all 
the  year  only  a  mackintosh,  which  is  now 
threadbare,  and  an  old  shawl  of  mine  wound 
around  his  shoulders  in  the  coldest  days. 
Neither  my  husband  nor  any  of  the  children 
have  decent  stockings  or  shoes  (on  another  slip 
of  paper  I  give  you  the  sizes).  Little  Bertha 
has  outgrown  all  her  frocks,  and  I  have  made 
them  over  for  Ruth.  Eddie  is  in  rags  and  tat- 
ters ;  not  one  of  the  children  is  decently  clad  or 
even  comfortably.  I  say  nothing  about  myself ; 
but  I  have  not  had  a  new  gown  other  than  a 
calico  since  my  marriage,  seven  years  ago,  nor 
have  I  had  a  new  pair  of  gloves  since  that  time 
— a  pair  of  mittens  would  be  a  luxury.  How- 
ever, it  makes  very  little  difference  about  me ;  I 

can  stay  in  the  house,  but  I  do  long  to  have 
124 


Trustful  To-moerows 

something  warm  for  my  husband  and  something 
to  keep  the  children  from  cold  and  chilblains 
in  this  fearfully  bitter  climate.  We  do  not 
suffer  for  lack  of  food,  as  our  people  are  very 
kind,  and  thus  far  the  Lord  has  always  sent  us 
supplies  as  he  did  Elijah  by  the  brook  Cherith; 
but  we  never  have  ready  money,  and  when  our 
money  does  come  we  have  to  pay  it  all  out  at  the 
store  in  return  for  bills  that  have  accrued.  I 
am  not  sorry  that  I  came  with  my  husband  to 
this  hard  field.  God  has  sent  us  here,  and  he 
is  enabling  us  to  light  a  candle  in  a  dark  place. 
I  have  no  regrets  or  repinings.  We  have  been 
very  happy  in  each  other  and  with  our  dear  chil- 
dren ;  but  there  come  days  when  we  would  like 
to  be  in  touch  with  our  old  friends.  If  you  can 
slip  a  new  book  or  two  into  the  barrel  for  my 
husband  it  would  be  an  unspeakable  boon.  He 
would  enjoy  Edersheim's  Life  of  Christ  so  much 
that  I  mention  it,  and  that  book  does  not  cost 
very  much  now,  as  I  see  by  a  paper  which  comes 
from  some  kind  friend's  hand  every  week.  As 
I  read  over  what  I  have  written  I  fear  you  will 
think  me  lacking  in  delicacy,  for  I  simply  have 
put  in  such  a  revelation  of  our  poverty  as  you 

will  hardly  believe  can  exist.     So,  dear  friends, 
125 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

pack  in  the  barrel  what  you  please,  confident 
that  very  little  can  come  amiss  in  our  house, 
and  do  not  forget  to  pray  for  your  old  friend 
and  for  the  work  of  God  in  this  distant  place. 
Pray  for  a  blessing  on  my  husband's  parish. 
*^ Affectionately  yours, 

"Emily  Harmstead."'' 

A  passing  teamster  took  the  letter  that  day 
to  the  post  office,  and  in  due  time  it  found  its 
way  to  the  Sewing  Society  in  the  church  which 
had  been  Emily  Fuller's  old  home.  The  ladies 
were  seated  in  the  comfortable  church  parlor. 
They  were  all  warmly  and  beautifully  dressed. 
A  sweet-faced  woman  presided  at  a  table  and 
gave  out  rolls  of  garments  to  the  needlewomen ; 
the  flow  of  talk,  with  intermittent  peals  of  soft 
laughter,  went  smoothly  on;  there  was  a  pleas- 
ant air  of  friendship  about  the  circle.  After  a 
while  the  president  rapped  on  the  table  for 
silence  and  said,  "I  have  a  letter  to  read  to  you 
from  our  old  friend,  Mrs.  Harmstead,  who  is,  as 
most  of  you  know,  a  home  missionary  in  Ne- 
braska. Some  weeks  ago  I  wrote  asking  for 
just  the  account  she  gives   of  what  may  be 

needed  there,  and  now  I  will  read  us  the  letter." 
126 


The  Sewing  Meeting. 


Trustful  To-moreows 

As  she  did  so  a  hush  fell  upon  the  group.    One 

by  one  put  down  her  sewing  and  tears  came  to 

eyes  which  were  suddenly  blurred.     When  the 

letter  was  finished  there  was  a  little  spell  of 

quiet,  broken  by  the  minister's  wife,  who  said, 

"Xet  us  pray."      Kneeling  in  her  place,  she 

offered  a  heartfelt  prayer  for  the  far-away  sister 

whom  they  had  forgotten  and  for  the  work  of 

God  which  this  sister  and  her  husband  were 

carrying  on  so  handicapped.     She  prayed  God, 

too,  to  forgive  their  own  neglect  and  hardness 

of  heart. 

After  that,  you  may  be  sure,  it  was  not  long 

before  contributions  came  pouring  in  for  the 

barrels,  which  were  presently  packed  and  on 

their  way  to  the  Harmsteads.     It  is  little  to  say 

that  every  need  was  supplied.     There  was  a  new 

gown  of  warm  cashmere  for  Mrs.  Harmstead, 

in  the  pocket  of  which  was  a  purse  containing 

a  little  roll  of  bills.     The  minister  found  in  his 

overcoat  a  pocketbook  also  lined  pleasantly  with 

money.     Everything  which  the  children  could 

require  was  lovingly  inserted  here  and  there  in 

the  wonderful  barrels,  and,  best  of  all,  the  ladies 

of  the  church  decided  that  the  thing  they  would 

next  do  would  be  to  raise  money  to  erect  a  snug 
127 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

parsonage  for  this  minister's  family,  so  that  it 
might  not  face  another  Western  winter  unpro- 
tected against  the  elements. 

When  the  barrels  arrived  you  may  be  sure 
there  was  a  deep  thanksgiving  in  the  house  of 
the  home  missionary.     A  thanksgiving  which 

lasted  a  long  time. 

128 


Tkustful  To-moreows 


CHAPTER  XIV 
The  Keeping  of  Home  Anniversaries 

Our  American  tendency  is  to  diminish  the 
importance  of  recreation  and  to  set  too  high  a 
value  on  work.  We  are  usually  obliged  to  work 
strenuously,  and,  far  from  being  a  misfortune, 
this  is  a  blessing,  strengthening  and  toughening 
character  and  bracing  whatever  is  best  in  our 
mental  and  moral  natures.  But  play  has  its 
uses  too,  and  demonstration,  which  retires  to 
the  background  when  we  are  working  at  high 
pressure,  comes  to  the  front  when  we  take  a 
holiday. 

Birthdays  afford  an  opportunity  for  fam- 
ily festivity  which  should  not  be  overlooked. 
Mother's  birthday,  father's  birthday,  the  birth- 
day of  each  son  and  daughter  should  be  ob- 
served in  some  pleasant  fashion — ^with  personal 
greetings  and  gifts,  with  the  coming  in  of 
friends.  Each  year,  as  we  enter  it,  should  be 
marked  with  a  white  stone ;  it  is  a  stage  in  our 
progress;  it  affords  us  a  chance  to  turn  over  a 

new  leaf  in  our  life's  volume. 
129 


Cheekful  To-days  and 

The  years,  slow-footed  in  childhood,  race 
rapidly  onward  when  we  reach  the  later  seasons 
of  our  career.  There  come  over  us  shadows 
and  clouds  of  depression  sometimes  as  we  think 
how  fast  they  go  and  how  little  we  have  accom- 
plished. With  the  poet  we  exclaim  sorrowfully, 
on  some  gray  November  day  when  the  frost  is 
on  the  stubble  and  the  trees  are  shivering : 

"We  too  have  autumns  when  our  leaves 
Drop  loosely  through  the  dampened  air ; 

When  all  our  good  seems  bound  in  sheaves 
And  we  stand  reaped  and  bare." 

Such  moods  should  not  be  encouraged.  They 
rob  us  of  strength,  though  their  tender  melan- 
choly is  very  attractive. 

Better  far  is  that  temper  of  mind  which  I 
remember  in  my  honored  father,  cheery  from 
youth  to  age,  and  singing  about  the  house, 
with  a  spirit  which  care  could  never  daunt  nor 
dim  in  its  radiant  brightness.  One  of  his  fa- 
vorite hymns  was  that  dear  old  lyric  of  Charles 
Wesley,  with  its  lilt  of  the  lark  uprising  in  the 
morning : 

"Come,  let  us  anew  our  journey  pursue, 

Roll  round  with  the  year 
And  never  stand  still  till  the  Master  appear. 
130 


Trustful  To-moekows 

His  adorable  will  let  us  gladly  fulfill, 

And  our  talent  improve 
By  the  patience  of  liope  and  the  labor  of  love." 

And  another  favorite  was  the  hymn  in  the  same 
peculiar,  and  at  one  time  popular,  measure,  con- 
taining these  stanzas : 

"Of  heavenly  birth,  though  wandering  on  earth 

This  is  not  our  place ; 
But  strangers  and  pilgrims  ourselves  we  confess. 

"At  Jesus's  call  we  gave  up  our  all ; 

And  still  we  forego, 
For  Jesus's  sake,  our  enjoyments  below. 
No  longing  we  find  for  the  country  behind, 

But  onward  we  move. 
And  still  we  are  seeking  a  country  above : 

"A  country  of  joy  without  any  alloy; 

We  thither  repair ; 
Our  hearts  and  our  treasure  already  are  there. 

***** 
"The  rougher  our  waj'  the  shorter  our  stay ; 

The  tempests  that  rise 
Shall  gloriously  hurry  our  souls  to  the  skies. 
The  fiercer  the  blast  the  sooner  'tis  past ; 

The  troubles  that  come 
Shall  come  to  our  rescue,  and  hasten  us  home." 

The  dominant  note  of  our  Christian  life 
should  be  that  of  rejoicing.  Lifted  above 
anxiety,  set  free  from  solicitudes  and  from  irri- 
tations,  we   should   take   time   to   be   happy. 

Every  holiday,  whether  peculiar  to  our  own 
131 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

home  or  set  in  the  annual  calendar,  should  ar- 
rive on  our  threshold  as  if  it  were  an  angel 
visitant,  and  therefore  welcome. 

Anniversaries  often  emphasize  the  ahsence  of 
dear  ones.  Our  beloved  son  is  in  the  distant 
East,  keeping  Christmas  as  best  he  can  to  the 
sound  of  the  drum  beat  and  the  bugle  call  in  a 
country  which  has  no  reminder  of  home  except 
the  flag  under  which  he  serves.  But  we  can 
pray  for  him  and  he  need  not  be  left  out  of  the 
joy,  though  in  visible  presence  he  cannot  now 
share  it.  It  is  for  the  mother  whose  laddie  is 
out  of  her  sight  to  be  brave  and  patient  in  this 
time  of  trial  which  has  come  to  the  great 
republic. 

Por  such  a  mother  I  have  written : 

Cheistmas  Fab  Afield 

Shut  your  eyes,  mother  darling,  now  shut  your  eyes 

and  sleep, 
The  wind  is  like  a  wolf  outside,  yet  do  not  wake  and 

weep ; 
For  overhead  the  stars  are  bright,  and  O !  I  see  one 

Star 
I'm  sure  can  shine  on  Willie,  it  sends  its  light  so  far ; 
Our  Willie  leal  and  loving,  and  in  the  alien  land 
The  one  they  need  to  set  things  right,  so  brave  of  heart 

and  hand ; 

132 


Trustful  To-morrows 

A  lonesome  time  without  him,  yes,  and  little  Christ- 
mas joy 

For  a  mother  white  and  grieving,  and  hungry  for  her 
boy. 

But  the  country  is  a  mother  too,  and  sent  her  son 
away. 

And  that's  why  some  of  us  are  sad  this  merry  Christ- 
mas Day. 

Yet  God  is  here,  and  God  is  there,  and  duty  must  be 
done, 

And  not  a  mother  of  us  all  would  dare  withhold  her 
son 

When  the  wooing  bugles  called  him,  and  the  throbbing 
drums  said  "come," 

And  he  carried  o'er  the  ocean  the  conscience  of  his 
home. 

Shut  your  eyes,  little  mother,  shut  your  eyes  and  sleep. 
'Tis  Christmas  Eve,  and  o'er  the  fields  the  snow   is 

drifting  deep. 
The  air  is  full  of  music,  it  is  thrilling  sweet  and  far. 
There's  naught  to  hinder  angels,  who  fly  from  star  to 

star. 
From  singing  o'er  that  tropic  camp  as  once  they  sang 

of  old, 
When   they   leaned  so  low  from  heaven,  o'er   tender 

lambs  in  fold ; 
And  Willie  pacing  up  and  down,   upon  his  sentry's 

beat 
May  hear  the  seraph  melodies,  so  wonderful  and  fleet ; 
I'm  told  those  Eastern  places  have  a  magic  not  like 

ours, 
And  spells  and  dreams  that  linger  there,  with  curious 

mystic  powers ; 
You  may  cease  from  fretting,  mother ;  the  Christmas 

joy  will  be 
Undimmed  and  beautiful  about  our  lad  beyond  the  sea. 
10  133 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

Why,  mother  dear,  the  fretting,  'tis  for  them  that  stay 
behind 

And  hear  the  music  die  away  to  silence  on  the  wind ; 

And  it's  always  glory  beckoning  the  happy  ones  who  go, 

And  who'll  come  back  some  splendid  day  triumphant 
o'er  the  foe ; 

Then  what  a  Christmas-keeping,  from  the  prairies  to 
the  lakes, 

From  the  pine-lands  to  the  palm-lands,  where'er  old 
ocean  breaks 

In  surf  and  thunder  on  our  coasts,  what  Christmas- 
keeping  then, 

When  Columbia  calls  her  soldiers  back ;  great  mother 
of  strong  men ! 

Now,  shut  your  eyes,   sweet  mother,  just  shut  your 

eyes  and  sleep, 
No  doubt   the  mother  of  the   Christ   her  thoughtful 

watch  would  keep 
When  she  saw  him  going  from  her  and  she  could  not 

do  a  thing — 
Nor   take   much   comfort    from   that   hour   when   she 

heard  the  angels  sing. 
Perhaps  she  never  heard  them,  on  that  night  when  he 

was  born. 
And  she  lay  all  wan  and  tired,  in  the  faint  and  roseate 

morn ; 
But,  born  to  be  a  Saviour,  that  was  all  the  joy  she 

knew; 
And,  in  a  lesser  way  of  course,  such  joy  may  come  to 

you. 
For,  not  for  self,  and  not  for  pelf,  but  at  the  country's 

need. 
Our  Willie  went,  at  duty's  call,  to  do,  to  dare,  to  heed. 
And,  wherever  floats  the  flag  to-day,  and  far  as  he  may 

roam. 
He  carries  with  him,  mother  dear,  the  conscience  of 

his  home. 

134 


Trustful  To-moeeows 

When  the  new  year  knocks  at  the  door  it  is 
well  for  us  to  remember  some  of  the  old  words 
which  have  ever  been  the  consolations  and 
delights  of  the  saints :  "Lord,  thou  hast  been  our 
dwelling  place  in  all  generations."  "The  Lord 
shall  preserve  thy  going  out  and  thy  coming  in." 
"I,  the  Lord,  have  called  thee  in  righteousness, 
and  will  hold  thine  hand,  and  will  keep  thee." 
"Thou  wilt  keep  him  in  perfect  peace  whose 
mind  is  stayed  on  thee,  because  he  trusteth  in 
thee." 

"Workman  of  God !  O !  lose  not  heart. 

But  learn  what  God  is  like, 
And  in  the  darkest  battle  field 

Thou  shalt  know  where  to  strike." 

The  daily  routine  of  the  household  apparently 
so  tranquil  has  its  pitfalls,  its  conflicts,  and  its 
temptations.  To  keep  one's  voice  sweet,  one's 
face  bright,  one's  will  steady,  one's  patience 
unperturbed,  in  the  arena  of  the  home,  in  the 
presence  of  one's  own  family,  is  no  light  task. 
Home  joy  is  a  precious  thing  and  should  be 
guarded. 

"If  I  had  known  in  the  morning 
How  wearily  all  the  day 
The  words  unkind  would  trouble  my  mind. 
I  said,  when  you  went  away, 
135 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

I  had  been  more  careful,  darling, 
Nor  given  you  needless  pain  ; 
But  we  vex  our  own  with  look  and  tone 
We  might  never  take  back  again. 

"For  though  in  the  quiet  evening 

You  should  give  me  the  kiss  of  peace, 
Yet  it  well  might  be  that  never  for  me 
The  pain  of  the  heart  should  cease. 
How  many  go  forth  at  morning 
Who  never  come  home  at  night ; 
And  hearts  have  broken  for  harsh  words  spoken 
That  sorrow  can  ne'er  set  right. 

"We  have  careful  thought  for  the  stranger, 
And  smiles  for  the  sometime  guest ; 
But  yet  for  our  own  the  bitter  tone, 
Though  we  love  our  own  the  best ; 
Ah,  lip  with  the  curve  impatient. 
Ah,  brow  with  the  look  of  scorn, 
'Twere  a  cruel  fate  were  the  night  too  late 
To  undo  the  work  of  morn." 

Away  back  in  A.  D.  700  one  of  God's  dear 
children  wrote  this  little  prayer,  which  is  appro- 
priate for  working  days  and  holidays  alike : 

"Grant  us,  0  Lord,  to  pass  this  day  in  glad- 
ness and  peace,  without  stumbling  and  without 
stain;  that,  reaching  the  eventide  victorious 
over  all  temptation,  we  may  praise  thee,  the 
eternal  God,  who  art  blessed,  and  dost  govern 
all  things,  world  without  end.    Amen." 

The  wedding  anniversaries  are  very  precious 

in  the  happy  home.     I  was  a  privileged  guest 
136 


Tedstfdl  To-moheows 

recently  at  the  fortieth  wedding  day  of  a  dear 
friend  to  whom  God  had  given  nine  dear  chil- 
dren and  in  whose  circle  there  is  not  yet  one 
vacant  chair.  Many  of  the  guests  at  the  wed- 
ding dinner  had  been  present  at  the  bridal, 
and  they  exchanged  reminiscences  and  renewed 
felicitations.  The  merriment  was  unclouded, 
and  it  was  hallowed  by  the  felt  and  recognized 

presence  of  the  Master  at  the  feast. 
137 


Cheerful  To-days  and 


CHAPTER  XV 

The  Plant   Heaet's-easb 

When  one  sees  the  serene  faces  the  Friends 
carry  under  their  dove  colored  poke  bonnets, 
and  observes  how  noble  and  dignified  is  the 
writing  of  time  on  those  gentle  brows,  one  is 
aware  that  in  their  bosoms  they  have  been  car- 
rying the  plant  heart's-ease.  This  little  herb 
grows  not  in  the  soil  of  pride  and  flourishes  not 
amid  arrogance  and  contempt.  Bunyan  tells 
us  that  it  is  oftenest  found  in  the  Valley  of 
Humiliation.  "It  is  fat  ground"  there,  he  says, 
"and,  as  you  see,  consisteth  much  in  meadows ; 
and  if  a  man  were  to  come  here  in  the  summer 
time,  as  we  do  now,  if  he  knew  not  anything 
before  thereof,  and  if  he  also  delighted  himself 
in  the  sight  of  his  eyes,  he  might  see  that  that 
would  be  delightful  to  him.  Behold,  how  green 
this  valley  is !  also  how  beautified  with  lilies !  I 
have  also  known  many  laboring  men  that  have 
got  good  estates  in  this  Valley  of  Humiliation 
(for  God  resisteth  the  proud,  but  gives  more, 

more  grace  to  the  humble) ;  for  indeed  it  is  a 
138 


Trustful  To-moeeows 

very  fruitful  soil,  and  doth  bring  forth  by  hand- 
fuls.  Some  also  have  wished  that  the  next  way 
to  their  Father's  house  were  here,  that  they 
might  be  troubled  no  more  with  either  hills  or 
mountains  to  go  over;  but  the  way  is  the  way, 
and  there's  an  end." 

"i^Tow,"  goes  on  the  poet  dreamer,  "as  they 
were  going  along  and  talking,  they  espied  a 
boy  feeding  his  father's  sheep.  The  boy  was 
in  very  mean  clothes,  but  of  a  very  fresh  and 
well  favored  countenance ;  and  as  he  sat  by  him- 
self, he  sung."     And  these  were  the  words : 

"He  that  is  down  needs  fear  no  fall, 

He  that  is  low  no  pride ; 
He  that  is  humble  ever  shall 

Have  God  to  be  his  guide. 
I  am  content  with  what  I  have, 

Little  be  it  or  much  ; 
And,  Lord,  contentment  still  I  crave, 

Because  thon  savest  such. 
Fullness  to  such  a  burden  is 

As  go  on  pilgrimage : 
Here  little,  and  hereafter  bliss, 

Is  best  from  age  to  age." 

'1  will  dare  to  say,"  said  Greatheart,  "that 

this  boy  lives  a  merrier  life,  and  wears  more  of 

that  herb  called  heart's-ease  in  his  bosom,  than 

he  that  is  clad  in  silk  and  velvet." 

To  have  the  perfume  of  the  plant  heart's-ease 
139 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

about  one  all  the  while  one  must  cultivate  a 
spirit  of  trust.  She  who  doubts  God  and  his 
continual  loving  kindness  will  have  no  heart's- 
ease.  She  who  is  careful  and  troubled  about 
health,  about  money,  about  the  morrow,  either 
for  herself  or  for  her  loved  ones,  will  never  have 
peace  for  her  comrade.  She  who  is  straining 
to  keep  up  appearances,  unwilling  to  live 
plainly,  to  dress  plainly,  to  take  an  incon- 
spicuous seat  at  the  banquet,  will  not  get  away 
from  care. 

Then,  too,  she  who  carries  her  loads  for  her- 
self, or  for  her  home  people  and  her  business 
associates,  to  the  cross,  and  carries  the  loads 
away  again,  will  not  know  the  balm  of  heart's- 
ease.  Whoever  kneels  to  the  Lord  in  contrite 
prayer,  and  accepts  the  promises  literally,  will 
bear  ease  about  with  him,  wherever  he  may 
walk,  whatever  he  may  do  or  bear. 

William  Law,  mystic  and  preacher  of  the  gos- 
pel more  than  a  hundred  years  ago,  living  in 
Putney,  England,  found  out  the  secret  of 
heart's-ease.  "When  things  seemed  to  go  ill 
with  the  cause  of  truth  and  righteousness,  in 
controversy  or  in  actual  life,  Law  fell  back  at 

once  on  the  assurance  that  God's  ways  must  be  a 
140 


Trustful  To-morrows 

great  deep  to  the  mind  of  man.  And  when 
hurts  and  wrongs,  crosses  and  vexations,  came 
to  himself  Law  knew  himself  well  enough  to  see 
why  God  sent  them  or  permitted  them  to  come. 
*You  are  here,'  he  said  to  himself,  'to  have  no 
tempers  and  no  self-designs,  and  no  self-ends, 
but  to  fill  some  place  and  act  some  part  in  strict 
conformity  and  thankful  resignation  to  the 
divine  pleasure.  Begin,  therefore,  in  the  small- 
est matters  and  most  ordinary  occasions  and 
accustom  your  mind  to  the  daily  exercise  of  this 
pious  temper  in  the  lowest  occurrences  of  life. 
And  when  a  contempt,  an  affront,  a  little  injury, 
a  loss  or  a  disappointment,  or  the  smallest  events 
in  every  day  continually  raise  your  mind  to  God 
in  proper  acts  of  resignation,  then  you  may 
justly  hope  that  you  shall  be  numbered  among 
those  who  are  resigned  and  thankful  to  God  in 
the  greatest  trials  and  afflictions.'  " 
Said  Geo.  Klingle: 

"God  broke  our  years  to  hours  and  days  that 
Hour  by  hour, 
And  day  by  day, 
Just  going  on  a  little  way, 
We  might  be  able  all  along 
To  keep  quite  strong. 
141 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

Should  all  the  weight  of  life 
Be  laid  across  our  shoulders,  and  the  future,  rife 
With  woe  and  struggle,  meet  us  face  to  face 
At  just  one  place, 
We  could  not  go  ; 
Our  feet  would  stop ;  and  so 
God  lays  a  little  on  us  every  day, 
And  never,  I  believe,  on  all  the  way 
Will  burdens  bear  so  deep 
Or  pathways  lie  so  steep 
But  we  can  go  if,  by  God's  power, 
We  only  bear  the  burden  of  the  hour." 

How  shall  we  carry  heart's-ease  to  the  he- 
reaved?  How  except  by  expressing  our  sym- 
pathy ?  "I  never  know  just  what  to  say  to  peo- 
ple who  are  in  sorrow  so  I  never  say  anything,  if 
I  can  help  it.  And  the  more  I  feel  the  less  I 
can  say.  I  can  write  a  note  of  condolence  quite 
easily,  for  the  stilted  phrases  slip  easily  from 
the  pen,  even  when  I  know  that  they  are  useless, 
for  they  never  comfort  the  least  bit.  But  when 
I  am  face  to  face  with  bereavement  I  am  dumb, 
although  my  heart  may  ache.  Still,  it  makes 
little  difference;  words  don't  help  people  in 
grief.  And,  if  they  did,  all  I  could  say  would 
be,  'I  am  sorry.' " 

As  if  that  were  not  the  best  thing  to  say! 

That  simple  phrase  carries  with  it  more  true 

sympathy  than  dozens  of  stilted  expressions. 
142 


Trustful  To-morrows 

"When  we  were  in  sorrow  and  felt  as  if  we  were 
numbed  by  the  awful  loneliness  of  our  grief, 
that  seemed  ours  and  ours  only,  what  did  it 
mean  to  us  when  our  friend  came,  and  putting 
her  arms  about  us,  sobbed,  "0,  my  dear,  I  am  so 
sorry !  so  sorry !"  That  genuine,  unpremedi- 
tated outburst  brought  sympathy  that  softened 
grief,  although  nothing  could  lessen  it.  It  is 
a  mistake  to  think  that  so-called  letters  of  con- 
dolence do  no  good.  Of  course  they  cannot  re- 
lieve sorrow,  but  to  the  grief-stricken  there  is 
great  comfort  in  knowing  that  somebody  cares ; 
that  the  thoughts  and  prayers  of  friends  are 
with  her  who  walks  in  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow 
of  Death.  And  to  one  in  sorrow  the  world  in 
general  seems  such  a  heartless,  careless  place! 

Let  us  not  feel  that,  because  dozens  of  other 
people  have  written  letters  or  spoken  phrases  of 
pity  to  the  bereaved  friend,  our  little  note  or 
word  is  unnecessary.  It  may  be  just  the  touch 
of  S3anpathy  that  will  soften  the  rebellious  grief 
and  bring  much-needed  tears ;  it  may  be  just  the 
drop  of  sweet  in  the  cup  of  bitterness  that,  but 
for  that  tiny  drop,  would  be  intolerable. 

A  thoughtful  writer  has  bidden  us  "cultivate 
the  undergrowth  of  little  pleasures.''    She  says : 

143 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

"There  are  the  things  that  can  be  done  in  odd 
minutes.  They  need  not  necessarily  be  simply 
profitable.  It  is  highly  edifying  to  know  how 
some  people  have  improved  their  minds  in  frag- 
ments of  time,  but  to  an  overworked  mortal 
what  a  weariness  it  is !  Momentary  snatches  of 
good  times  are  not  a  purposeless  waste.  Life's 
larger  deeds  and  duties  are  usually  hyphenated 
by  some  little  thing.  Let  the  in-betweens  be 
pleasant,  if  possible. 

"A  busy  housewife,  on  mending  day,  took  a 
choice  book  to  the  sewing-room,  and  after  slip- 
ping the  needle  in  and  out  of  the  yavming  hole 
in  a  stocking  a  certain  number  of  times  she  read 
a  delightful  page  of  the  story.  Her  work  was 
foremost,  and  was  duly  finished,  while  a  page  at 
a  time  was  not  much  of  the  book,  but  she  made 
the  most  of  the  little  undergrowth  of  pleasure 
and  found  it  refreshing. 

'Tf  it  is  possible  to  manage  between  times 
the  brief  informal  visit,  or  bit  of  neighborliness, 
where  one  cannot  take  a  day  for  social  inter- 
change nor  put  one's  self  in  array  for  a  grand 
function,  cultivate  the  undergrowth  of  socia- 
hility.     If  a  favorite  accomplishment  must  be 

relegated  to  chinks  and  comers  of  time,  so  be  it, 
144 


Trustful  To-morrows 

but  let  it  fill  the  chinks.  Touch  the  piano  keys 
in  the  twilight,  or  redeem  a  season  somehow  for 
taking  up  the  brush,  or  the  small  implements 
of  fancy  work,  if  that  is  a  pleasure.  Keep  the 
pen  within  reach,  and  let  the  giving  and  taking 
of  pleasure  in  a  friendly  letter  be  a  common 
thing,  not  a  formidable  task  like  the  writing  of 
a  state  paper.  Your  friends  can  find  state 
papers  in  the  public  library.  They  want  to 
know  your  common  goings  and  comings,  and 
what  you  are  thinking  about,  what  you  are  read- 
ing and  what  you  are  making,  how  your  new 
frock  looks,  and  how  the  last  recipe  you  tried 
came  out.  They  want  to  know  of  your  remem- 
brance and  regard,  and  the  impulsive  rhetoric 
of  the  heart  is  better  for  telling  this  than  any 
studied  eloquence.  Those  who  do  not  cultivate 
this  undergrowth  of  little  pleasures  in  friendly 
letters,  after  the  fashion  of  Cowper's  ideal,  who 
^oved  talking  letters  dearly,'  do  not  know  what 
they  miss.  There  is  such  refreshment  in  the 
writing  and  the  receiving  that  one  sometimes 
feels  moved  to  repeat  the  assertion  that 

'The  very  dearest  and  sweetest  thing 
Is  the  sound  in  the  house  of  the  postman's  ring.' 
145 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

"Under  the  severely  useful  and  profitable 
crop  of  commonplace  deeds  and  duties,  as  in- 
distinguishable from  each  other,  perhaps,  as 
crowding  cornstalks  or  swaying  wheatblades, 
there  is  an  undergrowth  of  innocent  satisfac- 
tion in  the  ability  to  do  the  work,  the  growing 
facility  in  it,  and  in  the  mere  fact  of  accom- 
plishing it.  Take  the  good  of  this  comfortable 
feeling  as  you  go  along.  Even  under  distaste- 
ful toils  pleasant  little  things  grow  up,  and  a 
little  sprig  of  content,  planted,  watered,  culti- 
vated sincerely,  will  blossom  into  pleasure  by 
and  by." 

Rev.  Dr.  C.  H.  Parkhurst  tells  us  that 
"We  should  show  ourselves  neither  philo- 
sophic nor  Christian  by  declining  to  enjoy  a 
landscape  that  is  beauteous  in  summer  on  the 
ground  that  it  is  certain  to  become  bleak  in  win- 
ter. You  can  bless  God  for  the  flower  that 
blossoms  at  the  roadside  in  June  although  you 
may  know  that  no  flower  will  be  there  next 
December.  Indeed,  by  affecting  to  make  light 
of  the  uncertain  mercies  that  come  to  us  and 
stay  but  a  little  while,  we  are  certain  to  put  our- 
selves a  little  farther  beyond  the  reach  of  mer- 
cies that  may  come  to  us  and  stay  a  great  while 

140 


Trustful  To-morrows 

and  always.  One  of  the  saddest  things  that 
parents  ever  say  about  a  child  that  God  has 
loaned  them  only  a  few  years  and  then  taken 
back  is  that  they  are  afraid  that  God  did  it  to 
punish  them  for  having  loved  the  child  so  pas- 
sionately ;  as  though  any  gift — most  of  all  such 
a  gift — if  only  cherished  with  a  heart  that  is  at 
the  same  time  mindful  of  the  blessed  Author 
of  the  gift  could  have  any  other  effect  than  to 
make  real  and  dear  the  unseen  world  out  of 
which  it  is  come  and  the  unseen  hand  by  whom 
it  was  bestowed." 

After  all,  he  has  the  most  of  that  sweet  plant 
called  heart's-ease  who  has  most  of  tender  com- 
munion with  the  Master.  To  lean  on  the  bosom 
of  Jesus  is  to  know  the  sweetness  of  his  grace; 
to  hear  him  say  in  the  dusk  and  in  the  dew,  in 
the  starlight  and  in  the  sunlight,  "I  have  called 
you  friend." 

Then  may  we  say : 

"I  can  never  doubt  his  goodness ; 

I  must  ever  trust  his  love. 
By  a  cord  that  cannot  sever 

I  am  bound  to  my  home  above. 

"Henceforward  on  my  journey 

I  therefore  walk  by  faith, 
Till  he  give  me  fuller  vision 

On  the  other  side  of  death." 
147 


Cheerful  To-days  and 


CHAPTEE  XVI 

The  Eastee  Joy 
A  Golden  Way 

From  Christmas  unto  Easter 
There  leads  a  golden  way ; 

By  solemn  stars  'tis  lighted, 
By  angels  watched  each  day. 

We  who  have  heard  the  Master 
Say,  "Rise,  and  follow  me," 

Are  swift  the  silver  milestones 
Of  that  dear  way  to  see. 

We  walk  again  with  Jesus 

Through  those  first  hidden  years 

Ere  yet  he  knew  the  anguish 
Of  struggle,  toil  and  tears. 

We  tread  the  steep  hill  passes, 
We  stand  beside  the  wave. 

And  o'er  us  is  the  blessing 
Of  him  who  came  to  save. 

By  beds  of  pain  we  meet  him  ; 

He  gives  the  blind  their  sight; 
In  lonely  mountain  places 

He  tarries  oft  by  night. 

And  ever  where  he  wanders, 

In  shadow  or  in  sun, 
We  catch  a  gleam  of  glory 

From  God's  most  holy  One. 
148 


'  Last  at  the  Cross,  and  Earliest  at  the  Tomb." 


Trustful  To-moeeows 

And  when  they  cry  "Hosanna," 

Or  "Crucify"  they  cry, 
Alike  he  wears  the  beauty 

Of  God's  own  Son  most  high. 

For,  swift  he  came  from  heaven 

With  sinful  men  to  dwell. 
And  sweetest  name  he  weareth 

Is  aye  "Immanuel !" 

No  grave  could  keep  him  captive, 
Nor  death  could  hold  him  fast ; 

All  whom  he  saves  shall  with  him 
Inherit  life  at  last. 

By  solemn  stars  love-lighted. 
By  angels  watched  each  day, 

From  Christmas  unto  Easter 
Is  just  one  golden  way. 

One  day  at  noon  during  the  latter  part  of 
Lent,  in  a  cold  winter,  I  found  myself  in  the 
neighborhood  of  a  church  on  Broadway,  New 
York,  where  through  open  doors  a  stream  of 
people  was  passing  in  to  a  little  service.  The 
invitation  to  leave  the  throng  and  bustle  of  the 
street  and  spend  a  quiet  half-hour  in  a  worship- 
ing assembly  could  not  be  resisted,  and,  enter- 
ing, I  found  myself  one  of  a  large  congregation 
among  whom  were  many  men,  young  and  old; 
women  of  all  ranks,  from  ladies  richly  and 
fashionably  attired  to  women  whose  clothing 

marked  them  as  tpilers,  some  of  them  very  poor. 
11  149 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

It  was  a  pleasant  experience  to  join  this  sanc- 
tuary throng,  and  as  I  left  the  church,,  com- 
forted and  helped  by  the  song,  the  prayers,  the 
little  sermon  and  the  watchword  chosen  from 
the  Bible,  I  felt  glad  that  Christians  are  more 
and  more  inclining  their  hearts  to  keep  with 
special  attention  the  services  of  Lent. 

I  could  not  agree  with  an  editorial  which  I 
read  shortly  after,  in  one  of  the  daily  papers,  in 
which  severe  reflections  were  made  on  the  de- 
clining piety  of  the  Church  of  to-day.  We  live 
in  a  material  age ;  an  age  of  fierce  business  com- 
petition; a  time  when  men  struggle  to  amass 
money,  when  the  contrasts  between  rich  and 
poor  are  more  sharply  drawn  than  of  old,  when 
the  besetting  sin  of  the  day  is  to  bring  matters 
to  the  test  of  human  reason  rather  than  to  go 
in  faith  to  the  mercy  seat  and  accept  what  God 
gives  us  there.  But  I  remember  the  text  of  that 
day:  "I  am  the  Lord,  the  God  of  all  flesh:  is 
there  anything  too  hard  for  me  ?"  I  see  press- 
ing in  with  insistent  energy  upon  the  Church  a 
great  and  increasing  throng  of  young  men  and 
women,  student  volunteers,  who  are  ready  and 
willing  to  give  themselves  to  serve  the  Lord  in 

any  land  where  he  may  want  them.     I  am  aware 
150 


Trustful  To-morrows 

that  there  is  a  large  and  increasing  army  of 
men  and  women  who  quietly  read  their  Bibles 
and  earnestly  pray,  and  I  do  not  believe  that  the 
Church  is  losing  its  hold  upon  the  world,  nor 
that  Christ  is  deserting  his  own  people. 

After  the  forty  days  of  Lent  comes  the  dawn 
of  the  Easter  morning.  Once  more  with  flow- 
ers and  hymns  of  praise  we  enter  our  holy 
places;  once  more  we  hear  sounding  over  every 
•open  grave,  and  hushing  every  rebellious 
thought  in  our  hearts  and  soothing  every  grief, 
the  words  of  him  who  still  says  to  every  one  of 
us,  "I  am  the  Eesurrection  and  the  Life ;  he  that 
believeth  in  me,  though  he  were  dead  yet  shall 
he  live."  Because  our  blessed  Captain  tasted 
death  for  every  one  of  us,  and  himself  took  on 
his  pale  lips  its  utmost  bitterness,  the  cup  which 
the  death  angel  holds  to  our  lips  is  filled  with 
the  sweetness  and  flavor  of  everlasting  life. 
This  is  the  great  joy  of  Easter.  More  and 
more,  as  we  go  on  traveling  the  pilgrim  road, 
we  are  conscious  that  it  is  but  a  road  leading  to 
another  and  an  endless  home.  Along  the  road 
there  are  beautiful  surprises.  Friendship  is 
ours,  and  domestic  bliss;  the  dear  love  of  kin- 
dred; the  sweetness  of  companionship;  the  de- 
151 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

light  of  standing  shoulder  to  shoulder  with 
comrades ;  the  glory  of  service.  But  this  is  not 
our  rest,  and  we  are  going  on  to  that  place  where 
the  beloved  of  the  Lord  shall  dwell  in  safety  by 
him  and  where  they  go  no  more  out  forever. 

Somehow  Easter  always  carries  with  it  more 
of  heaven  than  any  other  of  the  great  anniver- 
saries of  the  Christian  year.  In  its  first  bright 
dawn  the  heavens  were  opened  and  the  angels 
came  down  to  comfort  the  weeping  women  and 
the  disciples,  mourning  their  Lord  at  the  sepul- 
cher,  with  those  ecstatic  words,  "He  is  not  here ; 
he  is  risen!"  It  is  more  than  a  fancy,  it  is  a 
precious  fact,  that  the  angels  still  come  back  to 
console  the  mourner,  to  strengthen  the  doubt- 
ing, and  to  give  Christ's  own  people  the  blessed 
assurance  that  he  is  with  them  still. 

The  festival  of  Easter  comes  to  us  at  a  pro- 
pitious time,  for,  lo,  the  winter  is  past ;  the  rain 
is  over  and  gone;  the  time  of  the  singing  of 
birds  is  come;  and  the  voice  of  the  turtle  is 
heard  in  our  land.  Winter,  with  its  rigor  and 
cold,  its  ice  and  frost  and  inclement  blasts,  its 
tempests  on  land  and  sea,  is  an  emblem  of  war- 
fare; its  silence  and  sternness  ally  it  to  grief. 

Spring  comes  dancing  and  fluttering  in  with 
152 


Trcstpul  To-moeeows 

flowers  and  music  and  the  blithe  step  of  child- 
hood. Her  signs  are  evident  before  she  is  really 
here  herself.  First  come  the  bluebirds,  har- 
bingers of  a  host;  a  little  later  there  will  be 
wrens  and  robins  and  orioles,  and  all  the  troop 
which  make  the  woods  musical  and  build  so- 
ciably around  our  country  homes. 

Then  the  flowers  will  come.  Happy  are  they 
who  shall  watch  their  whole  procession,  from 
the  pussy-willow  in  March  to  the  last  blue  gen- 
tian in  October.  We  decorate  our  churches  at 
Easter  with  the  finest  spoils  of  the  hothouse — 
lilies,  roses,  palms,  azaleas;  nothing  is  too 
costly,  nothing  too  lavish  to  be  brought  to  the 
sanctuary  or  carried  to  the  cemetery.  Friend 
sends  to  friend  the  fragrant  bouquet  or  the 
growing  plant  with  the  same  tender  significance 
which  is  evinced  in  the  Christmas  gifts,  which 
carry  from  one  heart  to  another  a  sweet  mes- 
sage of  love. 

But  God  is  giving  us  the  Easter  flowers  in 

little  hidden  nooks  in  the  forests,  down  by  the 

corners  of  fences,  in  the  sheltered  places  on  the 

edges  of  the  brook,  and  there  we  find  the  violet, 

the  arbutus  and  other  delicate  blossoms  which 

lead  the  van  for  the  great  army  of  nature's 
153 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

efflorescence.  The  first  flowers  are  more  del- 
icately tinted  and  of  shyer  look  and  more 
ephemeral  fragrance  than  those  which  come 
later.  They  are  the  Easter  flowers.  Later  on 
we  shall  have  millions  of  blossoms  and  more 
birds  than  we  can  count;  now  in  the  garden 
and  the  field  we  have  enough  to  remind  us  that 
the  winter  is  past,  the  rain  is  over  and  gone, 
the  time  of  the  singing  of  birds  is  come. 

If  any  of  us  have  been  grieving  over  our  own 
lack,  over  our  sinful  departure  from  God  or  over 
the  loss  of  dear  ones,  let  us  at  Easter  forget  the 
past,  put  our  hand  in  that  of  our  risen  Lord, 
accept  the  sweetness  of  his  voice  and  the  glad- 
ness of  his  presence  as  he  comes  into  our  homes, 
and  say,  thankfully,  as  we  hear  his  "Peace  be 
unto  you,"  "Lord,  we  are  thine  at  this  Easter 
time;  we  give  ourselves  to  thee  in  a  fullness 
which  we  have  never  known  before.  We  are 
thine.  Thine  to  use  as  thou  wilt;  thine  to  fill 
with  blessing;  thine  to  own.  Take  us,  Lord, 
and  so  possess  us  with  thyself  that  our  waste 
places  shall  be  glad,  and  the  wilderness  of  our 
lives  shall  blossom  as  the  rose."  Such  a  prayer 
will  find  its  way  upward,  and  return  to  us  in 

wonderful  answers  of  blessing  from  the  Lord. 
154 


Teustful  To-morrows 

After  the  chill  of  the  winter — 
After  the  fi'ost  and  rime — 

The  dance  of  the  leaves, 

The  song  in  the  eaves, 

And  the  waves  like  bells  a-chime. 

After  the  wide  snow  fleeces 

The  green  of  the  springing  grass. 

The  buds  uncreased 

And  the  bees'  sweet  feast. 

And  the  ripple  of  winds  that  pass. 
155 


Cheerful  To-days  and 


CHAPTER  XVII 

Mornings  with  the  Bible 

For  most  of  us  mornings  with  the  Bible  are 
rare.  A  few  verses  hastily  read,  or  a  chapter 
or  two  in  the  interval  before  breakfast,  take  up 
all  the  time  we  can  give  to  the  Word  before  the 
inflowing  tide  of  the  world  is  upon  us.  Yet 
few  studies  are  so  remunerative,  few  occupa- 
tions are  so  delightful,  and  few  duties  are  so 
imperative  as  daily  attention  to  the  Scriptures, 
and  once  convinced  of  the  obligation,  and  in 
love  with  the  engagement,  most  of  us  will  so 
order  our  day  that  some  part  of  it  shall  method- 
ically be  given  to  this  employment. 

"I  want  my  Bible  to  be  a  living  book,"  said  a 
lady  one  day.  "Yes,  but  it  is  already  living," 
was  her  friend's  response.  "It  is  you  who  are 
not  responsive." 

Just  as  in  organ  and  piano  the  music  lies 
asleep,  waiting  the  awakening  touch  of  the  per- 
former's hand,  so  in  chapter  and  text  the  sweet 
melodies  lie,  ready  to  start  into  choral  and  re- 
frain when  you  come  to  them  with  loving  and 

156 


Trustful  To-morrows 

listening  heart.  To  the  color-blind  the  delicate 
shades  of  beauty  in  the  spring  or  the  autumnal 
landscape  are  not  discernible;  the  lilacs  and 
pinks  and  yellows  and  greens  fail  to  show  their 
wonderful  variety  of  tint  and  hue.  There  are 
those  who  are  dull  of  ear  and  dim  of  eye,  they 
neither  hear  nor  see,  when  the  Bible  is  the  book 
which  is  under  their  notice.  It  is  to  them 
merely  an  old  volume  to  which  they  pay  the  trib- 
ute of  a  traditional  reverence,  or  they  regard  it 
as  an  addition  to  the  furnishing  of  the  house, 
or  else  because  their  mothers  loved  it  they  some- 
times lay  upon  it  a  caressing  hand.  But  it  is 
not  their  Bible,  their  daily  food,  their  cup  of 
cold  water,  their  stajff  and  stay,  their  very  dear- 
est dear  of  books. 

We  are  bringing  up,  we  in  our  Christian 
homes  are  bringing  up,  a  generation  of  young 
people  who  have  no  intimate  acquaintance  with 
the  Bible;  who  do  not  feel  the  obligation  of  its 
claim  upon  their  thought  and  attention.  Its 
precepts  are  not  familiar  to  them  by  frequent 
repetition.  Our  hurried  modern  life,  with  its 
insistent  clamor  of  trains  and  its  schedules  of 
business  hours,  has  pushed  the  family  altar  out 

of  many  a  home,  so  that  children  do  not,  as  of 

137 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

old,  twice  a  day  read  or  listen  to  the  reading  of 
the  Bible  in  household  worship.  The  old  Bible 
heroes,  Moses,  David,  Samuel,  Nehemiah,  the 
Bible  women,  Kuth,  Hannah,  Deborah,  Esther, 
are  not  any  longer  household  words,  and  the 
sequence  of  the  different  books  has  dropped 
away  from  children's  education.  People  re- 
mark glibly  that  they  like  the  New  Testament 
but  do  not  care  for  the  Old;  which  is  very  like 
saying  that  they  like  to  live  in  the  house  but 
prefer  to  leave  out  the  foundation.  Of  the 
treasures  of  history,  of  poetry,  of  learning,  and 
of  pure  literature  in  our  sacred  Scriptures  many 
persons  are  to-day  pitifully  and  shamefully 
ignorant. 

Now  we  may  amend  this  by  setting  aside  our 
daily  hour — ^by  preference  a  morning  hour — for 
the  reading  of  the  Word.  We  shall  love  it  only 
as  we  read  it.  We  may  do  this  by  ourselves,  or 
we  may  seek  one  or  two  congenial  friends  and 
together  we  may  read  and  think  upon  what  the 
Holy  Spirit  has  set  down  for  the  instruction 
of  the  world  through  its  every  age. 

A  good  plan  is  to  take  a  single  book  and  read 

it  through  at  a  sitting.    Another  good  plan  is  to 

select  a  character  and  follow  him  through  his 
158 


Trustful  To-moeeows 

career.  If  we  choose  to  study  the  life  of  our 
Lord  we  may  hegin  by  looking  at  him  first 
through  the  prophecies  which  foretold  his  com- 
ing, and  then  we  may  read  the  four  stories  of 
his  earthly  way  as  related  by  four  men  who  lived 
with  him  and  loved  him.  Then,  following  the 
closing  chapters  of  St.  John,  we  may  read  the 
history  of  the  early  church  as  given  in  the  Book 
of  Acts  of  the  Apostles ;  then  take  up  the  letters 
sent  by  these  good  ministers  to  the  congrega- 
tions scattered  abroad,  so  getting  into  our  hearts 
true  missionary  fervor.  Then,  studying  He- 
brews, we  may  compare  it  with  the  Pentateuch, 
and  musing  and  dreaming  we  may,  with  the 
blessed  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved,  have  a 
Revelation  of  the  life  to  come. 

Only,  let  us  read  and  study  the  divine  Word. 

The  "Literary  Digest,"  some  months  ago, 
gave  an  interesting  account  of  an  experiment 
by  which  Dr.  George  A.  Coe,  professor  of  phi- 
losophy in  !N'orthwestern  University,  tested  the 
Scriptural  knowledge  of  certain  college  stu- 
dents. To  a  company  of  one  hundred  students 
he  gave  the  following  questions,  requesting 
answers  in  writing : 

1.  What  is  the  Pentateuch? 
159 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

2.  What  is  the  higher  criticism  of  the  Scrip- 
tures ? 

3.  Does  the  book  of  Jude  belong  to  the  New 
Testament,  or  to  the  Old  ? 

4.  Name  one  of  the  patriarchs  of  the  Old 
Testament. 

5.  Name  one  of  the  judges  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment. 

6.  Name  three  of  the  kings  of  Israel. 

7.  Name  three  prophets. 

8.  Give  one  of  the  Beatitudes. 

9.  Quote  a  verse  from  the  Letter  to  the 
Romans. 

The  answers  received  were  all  signed  by  the 
writers,  and  Professor  Coe  expresses  his  belief 
that  they  were,  "without  exception,  sincere." 
In  marking  the  answers  as  correct  or  incorrect 
Professor  Coe  put  in  the  former  class  all  that 
showed  even  a  distant  approach  to  definite 
knowledge,  whether  technical  or  only  popular. 
He  says  (in  an  article  in  the  "Christian  Advo- 
cate") that  ninety-six  papers  were  returned, 
of  which  eight  answered  the  nine  questions  cor- 
rectly ;  thirteen  papers  answered  eight  questions 
correctly,  eleven  answered  seven,  five  answered 

six,  nine  answered  five,  twelve  answered  four, 
160 


Trustful  To-mokrows 

eleven  answered  three,  thirteen  answered  two, 
eleven  answered  one,  and  three  answered  none. 
The  number  giving  a  correct  answer  to  the  first 
question  was  sixty,  to  the  second,  sixteen ;  to  the 
third,  fifty-six;  to  the  fourth,  sixty-one;  to  the 
fifth,  forty-five ;  to  the  sixth,  forty-seven ;  to  the 
seventh,  fifty-two;  to  the  eighth,  seventy-six; 
to  the  ninth,  thirty-one. 

Ninety-six  papers,  with  nine  answers  on  each, 
give  us  a  total  of  eight  hundred  and  sixty-four 
answers.  The  total  number  of  correct  answers 
was  four  hundred  and  forty-four,  a  little  over 
one-half. 

Nearly  two-thirds  of  them  knew  what  the 
Pentateuch  is,  but  only  one-sixth  of  them  knew 
what  the  "higher  criticism"  is;  and  only  one- 
third  could  quote  a  single  verse  from  the  Epistle 
to  the  Romans. 

Would  it  not  be  well  for  us,  in  test  of  our- 
selves as  well  as  to  induce  our  young  friends,  to 
submit  in  a  similar  way  to  some  such  trial  of  our 

accurate  knowledge  of  the  Bible  ? 
161 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

CHAPTER  XVIII 
Sweet  Hour  of  Prayer 

"0  liORD  of  life  and  Lord  of  love,  love  us  into 
life  and  give  us  life  to  love  thee.  Grant  us  life 
enough  to  put  life  into  all  things ;  that  when  we 
travel  o'er  this  part  of  our  life,  and  it  seems 
but  dust  and  barrenness,  we  may  be  of  those  who 
hope  in  thee.  Touch  this  barrenness  till  all 
things  bloom.  Touch  those  of  us  whose  life  is 
barrener  than  it  need  be,  lacking  knowledge  and 
beauty,  filled  with  petty  interests  and  foolish 
cares.  Lord,  forgive  us  that  our  life  is  so  poor, 
and  grant  us  the  thoughts  of  Go^,  that  we  may 
be  enabled  for  the  time  to  come  to  make  this 
very  desert  blossom  as  the  rose.  Grant  that 
in  us,  short-lived,  vexed  with  cares,  hungry, 
thirsty,  dying,  the  spirit  of  God  may  so  come 
that  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God  may  be 
upon  us,  and  the  work  of  our  hands  be  estab- 
lished through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord." 

This  prayer  of  George  Dawson  breathes  the 
desire  of  every  soul  that,  out  of  want  and  weak- 
ness and  penury,  turns  to  the  Lord  for  help  and 
162 


Trustful  To-morrows 

strength  and  affluent  bounty.  How  should  bur- 
dens be  borne,  how  should  sins  be  pardoned,  how 
should  wisdom  be  found,  if  there  were  no  still 
hour  when  we  might  seek  the  Lord? 

In  our  extremity  is  always  God's  opportunity. 
Strangely  do  we  limit  our  Lord's  goodness  and 
power  when  we  hesitate  to  carry  everything  to 
him  in  prayer ;  our  spiritual  needs  not  only,  but 
our  temporal  requirements.  Our  food  and  rai- 
ment, the  roof  over  our  heads,  the  shoes  for  the 
children's  feet,  the  health  we  find  failing  in  our 
loved  ones  or  ourselves,  the  journey  we  wish  to 
take,  the  choice  of  a  school  or  a  college  for  son 
or  daughter,  the  business  decision  we  must 
make,  these  are  legitimate  objects  of  prayer. 
Our  Father  Imoweth  of  what  we  have  need  be- 
fore we  ask  him,  yet  he  says,  "Ask,  and  it  shall 
be  given;  seek,  and  ye  shall  find;"  and  desires 
that  we  inquire  of  him  concerning  his  will. 

All  prayer,  to  be  real,  must  be  genuine;  sin- 
cere; the  utterance  of  the  heart.  It  must  be 
believing  prayer.  It  must  be  penitent  prayer. 
Also  it  must  be  made  in  the  dear  name  of 
Christ,  and  in  submission  to  the  will  of  God. 
"!N"ot  my  will,  but  thine,"  cries  the  devout  soul. 

Father  John,  that  fine  old  mystic  of  the 
163 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

Greek  church,  says,  "Only  feel  truly  and  sin- 
cerely your  need  of  that  for  which  you  pray,  and 
believe  that  it  comes  from  God,  and  you  will 
obtain  anything  and  everything.  For  with  God 
all  things  are  possible.  Whether  you  are  sit- 
ting down,  or  walking  abroad,  or  thinking,  or 
writing,  or  working;  whether  you  are  well  or 
ill,  at  home  or  out,  on  land  or  on  sea,  be  contin- 
ually assured  that  God  at  that  moment  is  wholly 
with  you;  that  he  hears  the  finest  breathings 
and  beatings  of  your  hearts ;  and  that  he  listens 
to  hear  and  help  you.  Has  he  not  said  to  you 
that  he  waits  to  be  gracious  to  you?  Forget, 
deny,  despair  of  anything  and  everything  but 
that.  Eemember  that  for  Omnipotence  noth- 
ing is  difficult,  nor  for  Love  a  trouble  or  a  task. 
All  things,  therefore,  whatsoever  you  shall  ask 
in  prayer,  believing,  you  shall  surely  receive.'* 
Prayer  is  not  always  selfish  asking.  Some, 
and  a  large  part  of  it,  is  intercession  for  others ; 
and  whoso  intercedes  for  the  soul  of  his  friend 
follows  closely  the  example  and  obeys  the  com- 
mand of  the  Master.  Some  of  it  is  adoration. 
Some  of  it  is  praise.  Some  of  it  is  just  a  sim- 
ple, silent,  sweet  drawing  nigh  unto  God.     Of 

one  thing  may  we  be  assured:  that  only  as  we 
164 


Trustful  To-moerows 

do  often,  and  closely,  and  earnestly,  give  our- 
selves into  God's  care,  committing  our  way  unto 
him,  asking  his  direction,  floating  out  upon  the 
infinite  sea  of  his  grace,  shall  we  grow  in  the 
Christian  life.  To  pray  is  to  think  of  Jesus; 
to  think  of  Jesus  is  to  become  acquainted  with 
God. 

There  is  a  little  picture  poem  by  Francis 
Fisher  Browne  which  often  returns  to  me  when 
I  remember  those  who  have  parted  with  their 
childhood's  simple  faith,  those  who  no  longer 
kneel  down  at  morning  or  at  night  to  say  their 
prayers : 

Upon  the  white  sea  sand 

There  sat  a  pilgrim  band 
Telling  the  losses  that  their  lives  had  known, 

While  evening  waned  away 

From  breezy  clifE  and  bay, 
And  the  strong  tide  went  out  with  weary  moan. 

One  spake,  with  quivering  lip. 

Of  a  fair  freighted  ship 
With  all  his  household  to  the  deep  gone  down ; 

But  one  had  wilder  woe 

For  a  fair  face  long  ago 
Lost  in  the  darker  depths  of  a  great  town. 

There  were  who  mourned  their  youth 

With  a  most  loving  ruth 
For  its  brave  hopes  and  memories  ever  green ; 

And  one  upon  the  West 

Turned  an  eye  that  would  not  rest 
For  far-off  hills  whereon  its  joy  had  been. 
13  165 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

Some  talked  of  vanished  gold, 

Some  of  proud  honors  told, 
Some  spake  of  friends  that  were  their  trust  no  more; 

And  one  of  a  green  grave 

Beside  a  foreign  wave, 
That  made  him  sit  so  lonely  on  the  shore. 

But  when  their  tales  were  done 

There  spake  among  them  one, 
A  stranger,  seeming  from  all  sorrow  free — 

"Sad  losses  have  ye  met 

But  mine  is  heavier  yet. 
For  a  believing  heart  hath  gone  from  me." 

"Alas !"  these  pilgrims  said, 

"For  the  living  and  the  dead, 
For  fortune's  cruelty,  for  love's  sure  cross. 

For  the  wrecks  of  land  and  sea ! 

But,  however  it  came  to  thee. 
Thine,  stranger,  is  life's  last  and  heaviest  loss." 

Whatever  else  the  world  may  give  it  can  give . 

us  no  better  thing  than  the  hour  of  prayer. 

Whatever  it  may  take,  it  cannot  rob  us  of  peace 

if  that  dear  hour  is  still  our  refuge. 
166 


Trustful  To-morrows 


CHAPTER  XIX 

Growing  Old 

Perhaps  the  keenest  pang  a  woman  ever  feels 
is  in  the  day  she  realizes  that  her  youth  has 
gone.  She  seldom  reaches  this  knowledge  with- 
out some  external  sign  or  token.  It  is  in  the 
frankness  of  a  friend  who,  meeting  her,  after 
the  lapse  of  years,  observes  her  altered  looks, 
and  comments  on  them,  "You  have  changed. 
I  would  never  have  known  you  !'*  It  is  in  the 
over-oflScious  courtesy  of  the  fellow  passenger 
on  a  railway  train  or  cable  car,  who,  yielding 
her  a  seat,  kindly  explains  that  he  cannot  suffer 
an  old  lady  to  stand.  It  is  in  the  reflection  of 
her  mirror,  which  shows  her  gray  hair  and  a 
hollowing  cheek,  or  in  the  merciless  fidelity  of 
the  camera,  which  reveals  differences  she  had 
not  remarked.  Yet,  once  confessed,  once  ad- 
mitted on  friendly  terms,  age  has  its  advan- 
tages. The  elderly  woman  may  go  unchallenged 
wherever  she  will.  She  may  form  her  friend- 
ships on  an  equal  plane  with  people  older  and 
younger  than  herself.     Boys  and  girls  come  to 

167 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

her  for  counsel.  The  love  affairs  of  the  family 
are  related  to  her,  and  as  under  her  silver  hair 
she  has  a  warm  heart,  often  absurdly  young 
though  nobody  suspects  it,  she  is  a  wise  and 
a  safe  confidante. 

Often  for  many  years  the  middle  aged  and 
elderly  woman  enjoys  firm  health  and  is  the 
possessor  of  vigor  to  which  her  youth  was  a 
stranger.  She  shrinks  from  no  undertaking, 
she  is  afraid  of  no  task;  she  goes  gaily  across 
the  continent  or  around  the  globe.  You  find 
her  peering  into  Dakota  dug-outs  and  Indian 
tepees ;  she  is  admitted  into  Hindu  zenanas  and 
Japanese  homes.  She  understands  life,  and 
reads  other  women  by  her  own  wide  experience. 

If  she  is  married,  and  her  husband,  growing 
old  with  her,  has  kept  pace  with  her  in  mind 
and  thought — though  it  sometimes  happens 
that  a  woman,  having  more  leisure,  outgrows 
her  hard-working  husband — then  the  two  in  the 
serenity  of  their  life's  evening  are  as  happy  as 
two  children.  They  have  lived  and  loved  to- 
gether. They  may  sit  often  and  long  in  silence, 
having  no  need  of  speech:  there  is  an  inti- 
macy   which    depends    not    on    language    for 

interpretation. 

168 


Trustful  To-mokeows 

Growing  old  is  less  a  terror  than  it  used  to  be, 
for  less  than  formerly  are  old  people  laid  upon 
the  shelf.  The  well-meant  but  mistaken  kind- 
ness of  their  juniors  is  apt  to  deprive  aged  mem- 
bers of  a  household  of  the  work  they  like  to  do, 
and  they  gradually  feel  that  they  are  first  unim- 
portant and  next  encumbrances.  No  greater 
blunder  is  ever  made  than  that  which  thus 
grieves  persons  who,  after  lives  of  much  activity, 
feel  themselves  crowded  out  and  pushed  aside 
by  the  newer  generation. 

Augustus  Hare  has  an  inimitable  sketch  of  a 
clever  old  lady,  one  Mrs.  Duncan  Stewart,  who 
until  long  past  eighty  held  a  sort  of  social  court. 
Of  her  pains  and  aches  this  sturdy  gentlewoman 
refused  to  speak.  "Take  care,"  she  would  say 
to  a  contemporary  who  had  a  tendency  thus  to 
complain,  "or  you  will  become  that  most  dread- 
ful of  all  things,  a  self-observant  valetudina- 
rian." It  would  be  well  for  everyone  to  make 
this  admirable  rule  his  or  her  own.  We  gain 
nothing  by  discussing  our  maladies,  and  we 
often  bring  upon  ourselves  the  very  physical 
pangs  we  dread  by  fixing  them  on  our  mental 
retina. 

Of  two  things  those  who  are  growing  old 
1G9 


Cheerful  Todays  and 

should  be  extremely  careful.  One  is  to  neglect 
no  little  point  of  decorum.  Manners  are  as 
beautiful  in  age  as  in  youth,  and  no  burden  of 
years  can  really  excuse  brusqueness,  or  harsh- 
ness, or  inattention  to  courtesy.  A  lady  told 
me  of  a  visit  she  paid  to  a  great-uncle  one  hun- 
dred and  one  years  of  age.  When  she  was  tak- 
ing her  leave  her  aged  relative  said,  "My  dear 
niece,  I  beg  that  you  will  pardon  me,  in  that  the 
infirmities  of  my  age  prevent  my  accompanying 
you  to  the  door."  Was  not  that  beautiful  ?  To 
a  gentleman  of  ninety  a  young  woman  carried 
an  offering  of  lovely  flowers.  "How  kind  and 
sweet,"  he  said,  "is"  this  thoughtfulness  of  yours. 
You,  so  young,  bring  roses  to  me,  so  old !" 

Then,  let  the  old  lady  and  the  old  gentleman 
dress  as  neatly  and  with  as  much  elegance  as 
possible.  Careful  dress,  clothing  as  rich  as  the 
purse  can  afford,  is  more  necessary  to  age  than 
to  youth.  When  I  was  a  girl  I  had  a  bonnet 
trimmed  with  pink  roses.  Said  a  dear  old  gen- 
tlewoman, "You  do  not  need  those  trimmings, 
dear;  the  roses  are  in  your  cheeks.  Wait  till 
you  are  older,  to  put  on  the  gayer  dress." 

The  old  should  associate  with  the  young,  and 

should  have  tolerance  for  the  views  of  the  latter 
170 


Teustful  To-morrows 

while  trenchantly  holding  fast  to  their  own 
prerogatives.  I  know  an  octogenarian  who  still 
'  practices  successfully  his  learned  profession, 
keeping  abreast  with  younger  men  and  going 
to  Europe,  summer  after  summer,  alone,  for 
purposes  of  recreation  and  study.  Another, 
not  so  far  from  ninety,  comes  from  a  country 
home  three  times  a  week  to  read  in  a  great 
library,  traveling  eighty  miles  a  day  for  the  pur- 
pose. These  men  have  known  how  to  grow  old 
gracefully.  They  are  of  those  who  prove  to  us, 
with  Browning,  that  "the  best  is  yet  to, be." 

Old  people  are  precious  links  with  yesterday. 
When  I  talk  with  one  whose  memory  goes  back 
to  days  when  N'ew  York  society  found  its  center 
on  the  Battery,  and  Chicago  was  a  mere  wilder- 
ness with  Indians  pitching  wigwams  beside  its 
lake,  the  past  grows  very  vivid. 

On  the  path  the  old  are  treading  we  shall  soon 

follow  them.     Of  one  thing  we  may  be  sure. 

Time  is  the  great  conqueror,  and  imperceptibly 

his  gentle  hand  is  snatching  away  the  youth 

from  us  all. 

171 


Cheerful  To-days  and 


CHAPTEK  XX 
Home  Awaiting 

It  is  the  dearest  word  in  our  language,  that 
sweet  word  Home.  Born  of  our  deepest  need, 
answering  to  a  responsive  chord  in  our  nature, 
whatever  the  accident  of  our  environment  or  the 
peculiarity  of  our  training  there  is  a  homing 
instinct  which  sends  us  back  from  the  farthest 
wandering  on  the  face  of  the  earth  to  the  old 
fireside  and  the  mother's  chair.  When  annu- 
ally we  of  this  land  keep  our  Thanksgiving 
feast,  every  train  across  the  continent,  every 
ship  that  sails  the  sea,  bears  freight  of  loving 
hearts,  carries  home  again  the  men  and  women 
who,  from  business,  study  and  pleasure,  turn 
yearningly  and  wistfully  to  the  place  where  they 
played  in  childhood. 

All  through  our  changeful  days  we  are  bound 

by  strong  and  slender  though  often  invisible 

threads  to  the  home  of  our  bringing  up,  to  the 

earliest  associations.    Yet  death  is  all  the  while 

slowly  or  swiftly  obliterating  earthly  scenes,  and 

men  come  and  go,  and  families  pass  away,  and 
172 


Trustful  To-moerows 

it  is  ever  true,  here  in  this  world,  of  everything 
we  see  and  hear,  that  the  wind  passeth  over  it 
and  it  is  gone,  and  that  the  place  which  knows 
Tis  to-day  may  soon  know  us  no  more.  Eealizing 
this  more  and  more  as  our  experiences  multiply 
and  a  deeper  note  comes  into  our  lives,  we  look 
forward  to  the  home  which  shall  abide,  to  the 
immortal  land  "conjubilant  with  song." 

"Jerusalem  the  golden, 

With  milk  and  honey  blest, 
Beneath  thy  contemplation 

Sink  heart  and  voice  opprest. 
I  know  not,  O,  I  know  not. 

What  social  joys  are  there, 
What  radiancy  of  glory, 

What  bliss  beyond  compare. 

"There  is  the  throne  of  David, 
And  there,  from  care  released. 

The  song  of  them  that  triumph. 
The  shout  of  them  that  feast." 

Our  dear  Lord,  leaving  his  disciples  lonely 

and  bewildered,  not  knowing  what  they  should 

do  without  his  presence  and  the  comfort  of  his 

gentle  strength,  said,  "In  my  Father's  house  are 

many  mansions.     I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for 

you."      There  and  then  he  named  the  home 

awaiting  us  after  the  trials  and  storms  of  this 

world;  it  is  the  Father's  house,  and  where  else 
173 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

should  the  children  gather  and  where  else 
should  there  be  provision  so  abundant  for  their 
every  want ! 

In  the  Father's  house  all  the  lost  children 
shall  find  one  another;  all  the  brothers  and  sis- 
ters will  sit  down  together  in  the  gladness  of  re- 
union after  separation.  Never  let  anyone  for 
an  instant  imagine  that  our  home  is  to  be  a  mere 
state  of  blessedness,  a  sort  of  Nirvana,  a  beatific 
sphere  of  isolation ;  it  is  to  be  the  rallying  place 
of  the  kindred,  the  joyous  hearth  round  which 
we  shall  meet  when  task  and  toil  are  over,  and 
unfettered,  without  handicap  or  limitation,  we 
shall  go  on,  learning,  loving,  living,  forever. 

Here,  a  thousand  obstacles  interfere  with  us 
and  a  thousand  hindrances  interpose  to  prevent 
our  development.  We  have  feet,  not  wings, 
Inherited  tendencies  clog  our  noblest  efforts, 
our  aspirations  are  weighted  by  the  grossness  of 
appetite,  our  good  is  marred  by  evil.  Sin 
creeps  into  our  most  beautiful  Edens.  Home 
life  is  shadowed  by  frowning  faces,  by  uncon- 
genial dispositions,  by  tempers  which  flare  up 
into  sudden  flame,  or  smoke  and  smolder  in 
gloomy  wrath. 

One  is  never  sure,  when  a  day  begins,  what 
174 


Tkustful  To-moeeows 

may  lie  in  its  pathway  before  nightfall.  One 
is  never  able  to  say  precisely  how  he  shall  meet 
temptation,  nor  to  count  on  his  reinforcements. 
Needs  must  we  sometimes  strive  with  Apollyon 
and  find  him  bearing  us  down  with  bitter  onset 
and  terrific  blows.  There,  the  core  of  all  the 
sweetness  will  be  entire  freedom  from  sin,  entire 
absence  of,  the  evil  overmastering  desire,  entire 
conformity  to  the  divine  will,  and  joy  in  obey- 
ing the  divine  commands. 

It  is  certain  that  in  the  home  awaiting  us  we 
shall  have  service  of  the  highest.  In  what  way 
we  shall  serve,  on  what  errands  be  sent,  we  do 
not  know,  but  we  shall  know  hereafter.  With 
the  glad  alacrity  of  children  we  shall  carry  mes- 
sages and  study  new  lessons  and  do  as  the 
Father  bids  us,  once  we  are  safe  within  the  gates 
of  the  Father's  house. 

Sometimes  we  wonder,  foolishly,  whether  we 

shall  know  our  loved  ones  when  we  meet  them 

again.     As  if  the  life  likeness  would  be  gone 

simply  because  the  dear  ones  had  been  dwelling 

a  little  longer  than  ourselves  in  the  Father's 

presence !    As  if  love  were  a  thing  of  the  hour ! 

As  if  death  were  more  than  transition,  the  angel 

of  emancipation,  the  opener  of  the  door  into 
175 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

the  lighted  room  after  the  long  journey !     As  if 

it  were  God's  way  to  give  us  a  half  blessing! 

The  joy  of  the  home  awaiting  us  will  be  the  joy 

of  meeting  once  more   and  keeping  through 

eternity  the  little  ones  who  went  on  before  us, 

the  comrades  and  friends  who  dropped  away 

from  our  side,  the  fathers  and  mothers  who 

showed  us  first  the  pathway  to  our  God.     Faith 

claims    this    dear    privilege    of    anticipation. 

There,  in  the  Father's  house,  we  shall  meet,  we 

shall  love,  we  shall  serve,  we  shall  know  and  be 

known. 

"For  death  is  but  a  covered  way 

That  opens  into  light, 
Wherein  no  blinded  child  can  stray 

Beyond  the  Father's  sight." 

Best  of  all,  in  the  home  awaiting  us  we  shall 
see  our  Master  face  to  face.  How  wonderful 
will  be  that  glad  recognition.  Not  as  they  saw 
him  who  walked  with  him  in  Galilee,  when 
he  bore  the  burden  of  our  flesh  and  was  ac- 
quainted with  grief ;  not  as  the  disciples  and  the 
women  who  came  to  him  for  healing  and  help 
saw  him,  with  glory  veiled  and  hidden;  but 
rather  as  those  privileged  ones  beheld  him  to 
whom  he  came  after  his  resurrection,  entering 

into  their  company  and  saying  "Peace !"  when 
176 


Teustful  To-moeeows 

the  doors  were  shut,  and  their  wistful  eyes  could 
scarce  believe  in  the  divine  beauty  of  that 
strange  revelation.  We  shall  see  Jesus  en- 
throned and  glorified.  We  shall  hear  his  voice. 
There  will  be  no  dimming  cloud  of  sin  to  keep 
us  away,  but  even  as  he  draws  us  to  him  we  shall 
hasten,  happy  to  be  in  that  close  circle  of  those 
who  are  evermore  his  own. 

Says  Jeremy  Taylor: 

"If  thou  wilt  be  fearless  of  death  endeavor  to 
be  in  love  with  the  felicities  of  saints  and  angels 
and  be  once  persuaded  to  believe  that  there  is  a 
condition  of  living  better  than  this ;  that  there 
are  creatures  more  noble  than  we;  that  above 
there  is  a  country  better  than  ours ;  that  the 
inhabitants  know  more  and  know  better,  and  are 
in  places  of  rest  and  desire;  and  first  learn  to 
value  it,  and  then  learn  to  purchase  it,  and 
death  cannot  be  a  formidable  thing  which  lets 
us  into  so  much  joy  and  so  much  felicity. 

"And  indeed  who  would  not  think  his  own 

condition  mended  if  he  passed  from  conversing 

with  dull  mortals,  with  ignorant  and  foolish 

persons,  with  tyrants,  and  enemies  of  learning, 

to    converse    with    Homer    and    Plato,    with 

Socrates  and  Cicero,  with  Plutarch  and  Fabri- 
177 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

cius  ?  So  the  heathens  speculated,  but  we  con- 
sider higher.  'The  dead  that  die  in  the  Lord' 
shall  converse  with  St.  Paul,  and  all  the  college 
of  the  Apostles,  and  all  the  saints  and  martyrs, 
with  all  the  good  men  whose  memory  we  pre- 
serve in  honor,  with  excellent  kings  and  holy 
bishops,  and  with  the  great  Shepherd  and 
Bishop  of  our  souls,  Jesus  Christ,  and  with  God 
himself.  For  'Christ  died  for  us,  that,  whether 
we  wake  or  sleep,  we  might  live  together  with 
him,'  Then  we  shall  be  free  from  lust  and 
envy,  from  fear  and  rage,  from  covetousness 
and  sorrow,  from  tears  and  cowardice:  and 
these  indeed  properly  are  the  only  evils  that  are 
contrary  to  felicity  and  wisdom." 

I  think  we  limit  our  conception  of  heaven  too 
strictly  to  the  devotional  side  of  our  nature,  as 
if  we  were  to  spend  eternity  simply  and  exclu- 
sively in  acts  of  worship.  That  praise  will  be 
the  atmosphere  of  our  being,  that  our  souls  will 
be  bathed  in  thankfulness,  who  can  doubt? 
But,  if  we  are  to  go  onward  in  the  future  as  in 
the  present  life,  we  shall  share  social  converse 
and  peer  into  the  secret  things  of  God.  Science, 
in  its  infancy  here,  will  be  studied  there  in  beau- 
tiful tinfoldings,  with  powers  freed  from  the 
178 


Trustful  To-morrows 

cobwebs  of  earth.  We  shall  go  on  learning 
with  open  eye  and  quickened  ear.  Think  of 
learning  without  fatigue,  of  dwelling  where  all 
around  assists  the  mind,  of  going  at  an  instant's 
notice  to  the  farthest  star !  There  is  no  reason 
to  fear  that  we  shall  be  hindered  in  heaven  from 
pursuing  any  employment  which  may  be  carried 
on  in  the  pure  sight  of  God. 

We  are  flitting,  as  the  call  reaches  us,  from 
these  houses  of  clay  to  our  everlasting  habi- 
tations. 

"Not  rising  up  together 

In  whirlwind  or  in  cloud. 
In  the  hush  of  the  summer  weather 

Or  when  storms  are  gathering  loud, 
But  one  by  one  we  go 
To  the  sweetness  none  may  know." 

A  messenger  straight  from  the  City  of  God 

crosses  our  threshold,  and  one  dear  to  us  is  not, 

for  God  has  taken  him.     The  messenger  comes 

to  us  one  by  one,  and  we  know  not  when ;  but  let 

it  be  at  cockcrow,  or  at  noon,  or  at  midnight,  it 

is  the  summons  home,  and  the  Lord  himself  will 

lead  us  to  the  place  prepared.    An  end  then  of 

every  anxiety,  a  realization  then  of  all  for  which 

we  have  hoped  and  waited  and  prayed.    We  shall 

be  with  God  in  heaven  forever. 
179 


Cheekful  To-days  and 

"We  are  on  our  journey  home 
Where  Christ  our  Lord  has  gone. 

We  shall  meet  around  his  throne 
When  he  makes  his  people  one 

In  the  new  Jerusalem. 

"O  glory  shining  far 

From  the  never  setting  sun, 
O  trembling  Morning  Star, 

Our  journey's  almost  done 
To  the  new  Jerusalem." 
180 


Trustful  To-morrows 


CHAPTEE  XXI 
A  Study  of  Angels 

The  Bible  is  a  supernatural  book,  and  its 
pages  are  bright  with  supernatural  radiance. 
All  through  its  course,  from  Genesis  to  Revela- 
tion, vre  hear  the  rustling  of  angel  wings,  and 
behold  the  shimmering  of  angel  robes,  and  hear 
the  sweet  cadences  of  seraph  voices.  In  these 
duller  days  we  are  often  insensible  to  the  vision 
and  the  song,  and  we  do  not  readily  accept  the 
Bweet  comfort  the  Lord  is  ever  willing  to  send 
us,  but  why  should  we  refuse  to  believe  the  old 
never  repealed  word  which  says  that  he  giveth 
his  angels  charge  concerning  us,  that  in  their 
hands  they  bear  us  up,  and  that  they  so  guard 
us  that  we  do  not  hurt  our  feet  upon  the  way, 
nor  stumble,  nor  fall  ?  Are  they  not  all  minis- 
tering spirits,  still  sent  forth  to  minister  to 
them  who  shall  be  heirs  of  salvation  ? 

The  first  recorded  mention  of  an  angelic  er- 
rand to  our  race  was  not,  however,  one  of  com- 
fort or  help,  but  of  restraint,  and  of  the  barred 
13  181 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

door  of  a  lost  Eden.  "And  the  Lord  God  said, 
Behold,  the  man  is  become  as  one  of  us,  to  know 
good  and  evil;  and  now,  lest  he  put  forth  his 
hand,  and  take  also  of  the  tree  of  life,  and  eat, 
and  live  forever:  therefore  the  Lord  God  sent 
him  forth  from  the  garden  of  Eden,  to  till  the 
ground  from  whence  he  was  taken.  So  he  drove 
out  the  man;  and  he  placed  at  the  east  of  the 
garden  of  Eden  the  Cherubim,  and  the  flame  of 
a  sword  which  turned  every  way,  to  keep  the  way 
of  the  tree  of  life." 

Terrible  in  their  glory,  these  mighty  creatures 
of  Jehovah,  created  perhaps  for  the  purpose 
which  they  then  fulfilled,  stood  still  at  Eden's 
morning  gate,  with  the  glory  of  the  dawn  light 
on  their  faces.  And  man,  fleeing  from  their 
blinding  radiance  and  dumb  before  the  majesty 
of  that  circling  sword  of  fire,  might  still  look 
up  to  heaven,  from  angel  and  from  brand,  and 
discern,  faint  indeed,  and  dim  in  the  distance, 
but  strange  and  clear  and  steadfast,  the  promise 
of  the  coming  Saviour,  whose  star  should  yet 
shine  in  the  East. 

When  Moses,  listening  to  the  voice  of  the 

Lord,  told  the  children  of  Israel  to  make  unto 

the  Lord  an  offering  of  their  best  and  choicest 
182 


Trustful  To-morrows 

possessions  and  to  prepare  for  him  a  tabernacle 
and  a  sanctuary,  we  again  find  the  cherubim, 
symbolizing  now  the  covenant  love  of  God  to 
man.  This  time  the  cherubim  are  to  be  made  of 
fine  beaten  gold,  and  the  Lord  himself  gives  the 
pattern  to  Moses.  "Of  one  piece  with  the  mercy- 
seat  shall  ye  make  the  cherubim  on  the  two  ends 
thereof.  And  the  cherubim  shall  spread  out 
their  wings  on  high,  covering  the  mercy-seat 
with  their  wings,  with  their  faces  one  to  an- 
other; toward  the  mercy-seat  shall  the  faces  of 
the  cherubim  be."  Through  the  long  ages  be- 
fore Immanuel  came,  priest  and  prophet  and 
the  devout  and  expectant  among  God's  people, 
praying  for  the  Messiah,  knew  that  the  glory  of 
the  overshadowing  cherubim  was  as  the  glory  of 
the  N'ew  Jerusalem  in  the  Holy  of  Holies.  There 
it  abode  until  that  dark  day  on  Golgotha  when 
by  wicked  hands  the  Messiah,  whom  his  own  did 
not  recognize,  was  crucified  and  slain,  and  then, 
when  the  veil  of  the  temple  was  rent,  and  the 
saints  lying  in  their  graves  arose  and  appeared 
unto  many,  for  ever  and  for  ever  the  glory  faded 
from  the  place  where  the  cherubim  had  kept 
their  century  upon  century's  tryst. 

It  was  while  sitting  under  the  oaks  of  Mamre, 
183 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

in  his  tent  door,  in  the  heat  of  the  day,  that 
Abraham  tlie  aged  suddenly  had  a  vision  of 
angels.  Perhaps  he  had  been  musing  of  the 
wonderful  way  over  which  the  Lord  had  led  him 
from  the  days  of  his  youth,  when  the  mystic  call 
had  drawn  him  away  from  his  kindred  and  his 
father's  house  to  seek  an  unknown  land.  The 
Lord  had  promised  Abraham  many  things;  as 
yet  the  fulfillment  of  a  part  of  the  promise  was 
delayed.  His  beautiful  wife,  Sarah,  no  longer 
hoped  to  be  the  mother  of  his  son ;  she  had  fore- 
gone that  proud  desire,  and,  jealous  as  she  was 
of  Hagar,  the  disdainful  Egyptian,  she  had 
acknowledged  Hagar's  child  as  the  heir  of  her 
husband's  line.  The  transaction  with  Hagar, 
read  by  modern  Occidental  eyes,  is  incompre- 
hensible, but  it  was  and  is  in  keeping  with  or- 
dinary Oriental  usage,  and  no  doubt  even  Sarah 
took  a  certain  pleasure  in  the  beauty  and  vigor 
of  the  Egyptian's  boy. 

God  had  distinctly  told  Abraham  that  Sarah 
his  wife,  a  fair  woman  still,  but  ninety  years 
old,  should  bear  him  a  son.  And  Abraham  be- 
lieved God.  Yet  it  may  well  have  been  that 
under  his  faith  there  was  the  moaning  cry  at 

times  of  impatience  with  the  long  waiting;  and 
184 


Trustful  To-moeeows 

again,  that  there  may  have  been  the  human  pro- 
test at  what  seemed  an  impossibility ;  as  though 
anything  could  ever  be  impossible  to  God !  As 
Abraham  sat  there,  quietly  thinking,  he.  lifted 
up  his  eyes,  and  lo  !  three  men  stood  over  against 
him.  They  had  not  approached.  The  long 
white  stretch  of  sand  had  no  footprints  upon 
it,  and  no  caravan  had  brought  these  messen- 
gers, on  whose  garments  there  was  no  dust  of 
travel,  in  whose  benignant  faces  was  no  shadow 
of  fatigue.  There  were  three  men,  but  one  was 
evidently  the  chief  and  the  others  his  attend- 
ants ;  and  it  may  well  have  been  that  this  kingly 
one  was  our  Lord  Christ,  appearing  thus  as 
again  and  again  he  appeared  to  his  servants 
before  he  took  upon  him  our  flesh  and  lived 
among  us  for  three  and  thirty  years. 

"My  lord,"  said  the  patriarch,  bowing  low 
with  Oriental  courtesy,  "if  now  I  have  found 
favor  in  thy  sight,  pass  not  away,  I  pray  thee, 
from  thy  servant:  let  now  a  little  water  be 
fetched,  and  wash  your  feet,  and  rest  yourselves 
Tinder  the  tree:  and  I  will  fetch  a  morsel  of 
bread,  and  comfort  ye  your  heart ;  after  that  ye 
shall  pass  on :  forasmuch  as  ye  are  come  to  your 

servant."    Then  followed  the  remarkable  inter- 
185 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

view  in  which  Isaac  was  again  promised,  and  the 
still  more  amazing  conversation  in  which  Abra- 
ham pleaded  for  Sodom,  over  which  impended 
the  wrath  of  Jehovah.  In  all  history  there  is 
nothing  more  extraordinary  than  the  story  of 
Abraham's  long  and  intimate  talk  with  the  Lord, 
its  pleading  tenderness  and  compassion  on  the 
part  of  the  man  and  its  gracious  relenting  on 
the  part  of  God.  Intercessory  prayer  has  here 
its  pattern  and  its  encouragement. 

The  Lord,  if  indeed  one  angel  was  the  Lord, 
returned  to  heaven,  and  only  the  two  serving 
angels  went  to  Sodom  and  met  Lot  sitting  in 
the  gate  of  that  wicked  and  doomed  city.  For 
consolation  and  for  joy  the  theophany  might  be 
given,  for  warning  and  for  destruction  it  was 
enough  to  send  forth  the  angels  of  war  and  of 
death. 

Years  afterward,  when  Isaac  was  a  fair  boy, 

a  lad  on  whom  his  father's  passionate  love  was 

set,  that  father  felt  that  the  divine  command 

required  him  to  offer  up  Isaac  as  a  sacrifice.    But 

just  as  the  knife  was  raised  to  slay  the  child 

God  interfered,  and  from  the  rifted  skies  the 

'Angel  of  the  Lord  spoke  and  stayed  the  father's 

hand.     And  to  Hagar  in  the  desert,  fainting, 
186 


Trustful  To-moerows 

wearied,  utterly  dismayed  and  heart-stricken,  an 
angel  came  saying,  "What  aileth  thee,  Hagar?'^ 
And  God  opened  her  tear-blinded  eyes,  and  she 
saw  the  water  of  salvation,  the  well  with  its 
fragrant  waves,  and  she  filled  her  bottle  with 
water,  and  gave  the  lad  drink. 

More  beautiful  than  almost  any  other  story 
in  the  Book  is  that  of  the  sleeping  Jacob  on  his 
way  to  Padan-aram,  home  and  mother  and 
father  behind  him,  with  all  that  home  meant 
to  the  quiet  peace-loving  nature;  an  estranged 
twin-brother,  deceived  and  wronged,  also  behind 
him;  but  in  his  heart,  with  all  its  sinfulness,  a 
true  appreciation  of  and  a  real  longing  for  the 
Divine.  How  lovely  is  the  narrative  so  simply 
and  quaintly  told  in  the  words  of  Scripture : 

"And  Jacob  went  out  from  Beer-sheba,  and 
went  toward  Haran.  And  he  lighted  upon  a 
certain  place,  and  tarried  there  all  night,  be- 
cause the  sun  was  set ;  and  he  took  of  the  stones 
of  that  place,  and  put  them  for  his  pillows,  and 
lay  down  in  that  place  to  sleep.  And  he  dreamed, 
and  behold  a  ladder  set  up  on  the  earth,  and  the 
top  of  it  reached  to  heaven:  and  behold  the 
angels  of  God  ascending  and  descending  on  it. 

And,  behold,  the  Lord  stood  above  it,  and  said, 
187- 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

I  am  the  Lord  God  of  Abraham  thy  father,  and 
the  God  of  Isaac:  the  land  whereon  thou  liest, 
to  thee  •will  I  give  it,  and  to  thy  seed;  and  thy 
seed  shall  be  as  the  dust  of  the  earth ;  and  thou 
shalt  spread  abroad  to  the  west,  and  to  the  east, 
and  to  the  north,  and  to  the  south :  and  in  thee 
and  in  thy  seed  shall  all  the  families  of  the  earth 
be  blessed.  And,  behold,  I  am  with  thee,  and 
.will  keep  thee  in  all  places  whither  thou  goest, 
and  will  bring  thee  again  into  this  land;  for  I 
will  not  leave  thee,  until  I  have  done  that  which 
I  have  spoken  to  thee  of.  And  Jacob  awaked 
out  of  his  sleep,  and  he  said.  Surely  the  Lord  is 
in  this  place ;  and  I  knew  it  not.  And  he  was 
afraid,  and  said.  How  dreadful  is  this  place! 
this  is  none  other  but  the  house  of  God,  and  this 
is  the  gate  of  heaven.  And  Jacob  rose  up  early 
in  the  morning,  and  took  the  stone  that  he  had 
•put  for  his  pillows,  and  set  it  up  for  a  pillar, 
and  poured  oil  upon  the  top  of  it.  And  he  called 
the  name  of  that  place  Beth-el :  but  the  name  of 
that  city  was  called  Luz  at  the  first.  And  Jacob 
vowed  a  vow,  saying.  If  God  will  be  with  me, 
and  ■will  keep  me  in  this  way  that  I  go,  and  will 
give  me  bread  to  eat,  and  raiment  to  put  on,  so 

that  I  come  again  to  mv  father's  house  in  peace; 

iss 


Teustpul  To-moekows 

then  shall  the  Lord  he  my  God :  and  this  stone, 
which  I  have  set  for  a  pillar,  shall  he  God's 
house :  and  of  all  that  thou  shalt  give  me  I  will 
surely  give  the  tenth  unto  thee." 

Observe  how  the  ladder,  invisible  to  us, 
reaches  from  earth  to  heaven.  Is  it  not  thus 
reaching  still?  And  to  and  fro  the  angels  go, 
upon  its  shining  rounds,  doing  the  will  of  God. 
With  what  grace  of  thankfulness  the  young  man 
pledges  his  gift  of  acknowledgment,  that  tribute 
•of  the  tenth — ^which  is  surely  little  enough  for 
any  of  us  to  give  to  the  Lord  whose  watchful 
care  of  us,  too,  never  ceases. 

Faber's  familiar  hymn,  sung  in  our  churches 
and  at  family  worship,  never  loses  its  charm : 

"Hark  !  Hark  !  my  soul,  angelic  songs  are  swelling 

O'er  earth's  green  fields  and  ocean's  wave-beat  shore : 
How  sweet  the  truth  those  blessed  strains  are  telling 
Of  that  new  life  when  sin  shall  be  no  more ! 
Angels  of  Jesus,  angels  of  light, 
Singing  to  welcome  the  pilgrims  of  the  night. 

•"Darker  than  night  life's  shadows  fall  around  us, 
And  like  benighted  men  we  miss  our  mark ; 

<3od  hides  himself,  and  grac6  hath  scarcely  found  us 
Ere  death  finds  out  his  victims  in  the  dark. 

"Onward  we  go,  for  still  we  hear  them  singing, 
'Come,  weary  souls,  for  Jesus  bids  you  come !' 

And  through  the  dark,  its  echoes  sweetly  ringing, 
The  music  of  the  gospel  leads  us  home. 

IS'.) 


Cheekful  To-days  and 

"Far,  far  away,  like  bells  at  evening  pealing. 
The  voice  of  Jesus  sounds  o'er  land  and  sea, 

And  laden  souls  by  thousands,  meekly  stealing. 
Kind  Shepherd !  turn  their  weary  steps  to  thee. 

"Rest  comes  at  length,  though  life  be  long  and  dreary ; 

The  day  must  dawn  and  darksome  night  be  past ; 
All  journeys  end  in  welcome  to  the  weary. 

And  heaven,  the  heart's  true  home,  will  come  at  last. 

"Cheer  up,  my  soul !  faith's  moonbeams  softly  glisten 
Upon  the  breast  of  life's  most  troubled  sea ; 

And  it  will  cheer  thy  drooping  heart  to  listen 

To  those  brave  songs  which  angels  mean  for  thee. 

"Angels,  sing  on  !  your  faithful  watches  keeping ; 

Sing  us  sweet  fragments  of  the  songs  above  ; 
While  we  toil  on,  and  soothe  ourselves  with  weeping, 
Till  life's  long  night  shall  break  in  endless  love. 
Angels  of  Jesus,  angels  of  light, 
Singing  to  welcome  the  pilgrims  of  the  night!" 

Many  long  days  and  nights  pass  over  Jacob's 
head;  he  toils  and  waits  and  loves  in  the  house 
of  his  stern  kinsman  Laban,  the  Syrian.  The 
sweetest  idyl  of  love  and  patience  in  the  world 
is  that  old  story  of  Jacob's  passion  for  Kachel. 
"And  Jacob  served  seven  years  for  Rachel,  and 
they  seemed  to  him  but  a  few  days  for  the  love 
he  had  to  her."  Yet  seven  more  were  appointed 
unto  him,  fourteen  in  all,  before  the  dearly  be- 
loved became  his  bride. 

We    do    not    know    how    often    the    angels 

strengthened  Jacob  during  those  years  of  exile 
]90 


Trustful  To-moerows 

and  persistent  labor,  but  they  came,  if  inference 

may  count,  many  a  time  and  oft ;  sometimes  in 

companies,  sometimes  singly.    Once,  indeed,  to 

this  child  of  God  there  was  given  an  experience 

of  depth  and  agony  in  prayer  such  as  few  of  our 

race  have  ever  known. 

"And  Jacob  was  left  alone ;  and  there  wrestled 

a  man  with  him  until  the  breaking  of  the  day. 

And  when  he  saw  that  he  prevailed  not  against 

him,  he  touched  the  hollow  of  his  thigh ;  and  the 

hollow  of  Jacob's  thigh  was  strained,  as  he 

wrestled  with  him.    And  he  said.  Let  me  go,  for 

the  day  breaketh.    And  he  said,  I  will  not  let 

thee  go,  except  thou  bless  me.    And  he  said  unto 

him.  What  is  thy  name?    And  he  said,  Jacob. 

And  he  said.  Thy  name  shall  be  called  no  more 

Jacob,  but  Israel:  for  thou  hast  striven  with 

God  and  with  men,  and  hast  prevailed.     And 

Jacob  asked  him,  and  said.  Tell  me,  I  pray  thee, 

thy  name.     And  he  said,  Wherefore  is  it  that 

thou  dost  ask  after  my  name  ?    And  he  blessed 

him  there.    And  Jacob  called  the  name  of  the 

place  Peniel :  for,  said  he,  I  have  seen  God  face 

to  face,  and  my  life  is  preserved.    And  the  sun 

rose  upon  him  as  he  passed  over  Penuel,  and  he 

halted  upon  his  thigh.    Therefore  the  children 
191 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

of  Israel  eat  not  the  sinew  of  the  hip  which  i» 
upon  the  hollow  of  the  thigh,  unto  this  day: 
because  he  touched  the  hollow  of  Jacob's  thigh 
in  the  sinew  of  the  hip." 

We  remember  the  circumstances  which  con- 
fronted Jacob:  the  menace  of  his  offended 
brother  on  the  advance  to  meet  him  with  his 
band  of  followers,  armed  to  the  teeth,  ready  to 
pounce  upon  and  destroy  the  caravan  and  to 
avenge  the  injury  of  the  long  ago,  when  Jacob 
by  deceit  carried  off  the  blessing  and  the  birth- 
right. Says  the  Eev.  Dr.  Wm.  M.  Baker,  writ- 
ing of  this  night  of  agonizing  prayer : 

*'How  very  much  more  do  we  know  of  this 
Visitor  than  did  Jacob !  Whatever  those  learned 
who  had  him  as  companion  during  the  seven 
theophanies  which  came  after  this  is  ours  also- 
All  that  men  came  to  know  of  Christ  during  his 
life  and  death,  ages  after,  on  earth,  is  our  own. 
Imagine  our  importunity  to  have  increased  up 
to  the  measure  of  our  information !  Though 
our  Esau  is  Satan,  and  with  all  hell  at  his  heels, 
what  need  we  fear,  having  such  an  interlocked 
grasp  upon  our  Lord ! 

*'We  read  of  how  a  king  or  emperor  knights 

upon  some  well-fought  field  some  valiant  sol- 
102 


Trustful  To-iiOKEOws 

dier,  the  nobility  of  whose  new  title  is  borne  by 
his  rejoicing  children  to  the  end  of  time.  So 
is  it  here ;  the  distinctive  name  of  the  people  of 
God,  till  at  last  prayer  shall  perish,  is  'the 
Israel  of  God,'  'An  Israelite  indeed/  said  Jesus 
of  Nathanael,  since  beneath  the  fig-tree  he  had 
himself  been  wrestled  with  by  the  man  in 
prayer :  Nathanael,  like  Jacob,  being  permitted 
go  soon  afterward  to  see  the  face  of  this  divine 
Foe — Jesus,  the  Christ. 

"And  Jacob  is  blessed  of  the  Son  of  God. 
But,  now  as  ever,  not  one  syllable  does  Christ 
say  as  to  how,  and  when,  and  where,  the  sup- 
pliant— in  this  case  Jacob — shall  be  rescued 
from  his  Esau.  The  patriarch  knows,  as  he  ad- 
vances next  day  alone  and  at  the  forefront  of 
his  household,  nothing  but  that  God  is  with 
him ;  and  to  him  he  leaves  it  all.  None  the  less 
he  still  uses  all  possible  means,  bowing  himself 
seven  times  before  the  savage  sheik  who,  with 
his  four  hundred  spears  at  his  back,  bears  down 
upon  him.  Here  is  no  interposition  of  God! 
Esau  rides  down  upon  his  traitorous  brother 
with  leveled  spear;  his  vengeance  whetted  by 
the  sight  of  his  enemy,  his  lust  for  plunder  by 

the  swarming  herds  and  slaves  in  full  view. 
19.3 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

There  is  no  faltering  in  a  purpose  which  during 
near  half  a  hundred  years  has  hardened  into 
steel.  With  eye  and  weapon  unswerving  Esau 
rushes  down  upon  Jacob.  A  moment  more  and 
the  unarmed  man  will  lie  weltering  in  his  blood 
— his  wives  and  sons,  his  flocks  and  herds,  given, 
over  to  slaughter,  outrage,  and  spoil. 

"In  that  instant  Esau  is  struck  through  the 
heart!  But  it  is  by  an  arrow  peculiar  to  the 
quiver  and  bow  of  him  of  whom  it  is  written: 
'Thine  arrows  are  sharp  in  the  hearts  of  the 
king's  enemies,  whereby  the  people  are  subdued 
under  thee !'  Eor  it  is  an  arrow  of  conquering 
love !  Saul,  the  persecutor,  fell  transfixed  by  it 
when  in  full  career,  and  so  is  it  now.  'And  Esau 
ran  to  meet  him,  and  embraced  him,  and  fell  on 
his  neck  and  kissed  him ;  and  they  wept.'  " 

Friends,  there  come  to  us,  in  our  lives,  peri- 
ods as  pregnant  with  calamity  as  this  period 
which  came  to  Jacob.  Again  and  again  we  are 
perplexed,  harassed,  troubled,  distressed,  but 
ah !  never,  never,  forsaken  if  we  believe  in  God, 
if  we  dare  to  take  him  at  his  word,  if  we  carry 
every  trial  and  trouble  and  disaster  and  threat 
of  evil   straight   to   his   feet.     When  we   are 

tempted  he  can  enable  us  to  conquer,  when  we 
194 


Teustful  To-morrows 

are  overcome  he  can  help  us  to  arise.  Again  let 
us  quote  from  Dr.  Baker,  whose  thought  of  the 
personal  Christ  was  so  vivid  and  his  realization 
of  Christ's  immanence  so  precious  that,  with  the 
saints  of  old,  he  seems  to  have  had  the  open 
vision : 

"  'The  kingdom  of  heaven  suffereth  violence, 
and  the  violent  take  it  hy  force.'  Jacob  saw  a 
ladder,  reaching  from  where  he  lay  to  heaven, 
up  and  down  which  trooped  the  angels:  he  is 
afterward  to  learn  that  this  is  as  a  scaling  ladder 
planted  upon  the  soil,  its  top  against  the  ram- 
parts of  heaven,  and  by  which  he  and  we  must 
storm  heaven  itself  or  do  without.  If  you  who 
read  have  never  known  of  the  almost  infinite 
stringency  of  the  world  upon  you,  and  at  every 
step;  if  3'ou  have  not  gone  to  God  and  prayed 
and  prayed,  and  prayed  only  apparently  to  be 
repulsed — ^}^es,  and  seemingly  cruelly  repulsed, 
and  often — jovl  have  no  business  with  this  page. 
It  is  to  such  as  have  known,  long  known,  the 
agony  of  prayer  long  despised,  rejected,  refused, 
these  lines  are  addressed.  For  it  is  not  'the 
kingdom,'  it  is  the  King  of  heaven  who  'suffer- 
eth  violence,'  who  must  be  taken  by  force.    Our 

want  is  but  the  temporary  inducement  to  that 
195 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

which  is  the  supreme  thing :  and  that  is,  our  so 
wrestling  in  prevailing  prayer  with  the  Son  of 
God  as  to  expand  and  develop  our  whole 
nature  into  likeness  to  his.  Thus  are  we  'made 
partakers  of  the  divine  nature;'  thus  are  we,  in. 
the  end,  'filled  with  all  the  fullness  of  God.'  " 

In  the  New  Testament  we  find  the  angels  in 
constant  ministry  upon  our  Lord.  An  angel 
announced  to  the  Virgin  the  honor  of  her  com- 
ing motherhood :  "Fear  not,  Mary :  for  thou  hast 
found  favor  with  God."  A  choir  of  angels  sang 
in  the  hearing  of  the  shepherds  on  the  night  of 
Immanuel's  birth: 

"And  there  were  shepherds  in  the  same  coun- 
try abiding  in  the  field,  and  keeping  watch  by 
night  over  their  flock.  And  an  angel  of  the 
Lord  stood  by  them,  and  the  glory  of  the  Lord 
shone  round  about  them:  and  they  were  sore 
afraid.  And  the  angel  said  unto  them.  Be  not 
afraid;  for  behold,  I  bring  jom  good  tidings  of 
great  joy  which  shall  be  to  all  the  people :  for 
there  is  born  to  you  this  day  in  the  city  of  David 
a  Saviour,  which  is  Christ  the  Lord.  And  this 
is  the  sign  unto  you;  Ye  shall  find  a  babe 
wrapped  in  swaddling  clothes,  and  lying  in  a 

manger.    And  suddenly  there  was  with  the  angel 
19G 


The  Annunciation.     (After  the  Painting  by  D.  G.  Rossetti. 


Tkustful  To-moerows 

a  multitude  of  the  heavenly  host  praising  God, 
and  saying, 

"Glory  to  God  in  the  highest, 

"And  on  earth  peace  among  men  in  whom  he 
is  well  pleased. 

"And  it  came  to  pass,  when  the  angels  went 
away  from  them  into  heaven,  the  shepherds  said 
one  to  another.  Let  us  now  go  even  unto  Beth- 
lehem, and  see  this  thing  that  is  come  to  pass, 
which  the  Lord  hath  made  known  unto  us.  And 
they  came  with  haste,  and  found  both  Mary  and 
Joseph,  and  the  babe  lying  in  the  manger.  And 
when  they  saw  it,  they  made  known  concerning 
the  saying  which  was  spoken  to  them  about  this 
child.  And  all  that  heard  it  wondered  at  the 
things  which  were  spoken  unto  them  by  the 
shepherds.  But  Mary  kept  all  these  sayings, 
pondering  them  in  her  heart.  And  the  shep- 
herds returned,  glorifying  and  praising  God  for 
all  the  things  that  they  had  heard  and  seen,  even 
as  it  was  spoken  unto  them. 

"And  when  eight  days  were  fulfilled  for  cir- 
cumcising him,  his  name  was  called  Jesus, 
which  was  so  called  by  the  angel  before  he  was 
conceived  in  the  womb." 

Our  Lord  had  the  angels  ever  within  his  call ; 
14  197 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

they  were  doubtless  awed  and  amazed  when  they 
beheld  his  humiliation,  but  their  business,  as 
was  his,  supremely,  was  to  do  God's  will  fully, 
and  without  a  question.  And  so  when  he 
needed  them  they  ministered  to  him:  in  the 
lonely  nights  upon  the  cold  still  mountains,  in 
the  desert  spaces,  in  the  garden  of  his  agony. 
Angels  said,  as  they  waited  to  see  his  disciples 
in  the  dawn  of  the  resurrection,  "He  is  not  here. 
He  is  risen  !"  and  when  he  ascended,  and  a  cloud 
received  him  out  of  the  sight  of  his  friends  and 
followers,  while  yet  they  stood  steadfastly  gazing 
into  heaven  as  he  went,  behold  two  men  stood  by 
them  in  white  apparel,  saying,  "This  Jesus  shall 
so  come  in  like  manner  as  ye  beheld  him  going 
into  heaven." 

Very  dear  to  every  Christian  heart  must  be 
that  story  of  Peter  shut  up  in  prison  by  Herod 
while  prayer  was  made  earnestly  by  the  church 
unto  God  for  him. 

"And  when  Herod  was  about  to  bring  him 

forth,  the  same  night  Peter  was  sleeping  be- 

tM^een  two  "soldiers,  bound  with  two  chains :  and 

guards  before  the  door  kept  the  prison.     And 

behold,  an  angel  of  the  Lord  stood  by  him,  and 

a  light  shined  in  the  cell :  and  he  smote  Peter  on 
19S 


Trustful  To-:\roRi;ows 

the  side,  and  awoke  him,  saying,  Eise  up  quickly. 
And  his  chains  fell  off  from  his  hands.  And  the 
angel  said  unto  him,  Gird  thyself,  and  bind 
on  thy  sandals." 

As  if  the  angel  had  said  gently  to  the  prisoner, 
"Take  thy  time;  there  is  no  need  of  haste. 
Herod  shall  not  bring  thee  forth  for  death. 
Jehovah  Jesus  gives  thee  life  to  serve  him  yet 
a  while  longer  here." 

"And  he  saith  unto  him.  Cast  thy  garment 
about  thee,  and  follow  me.  And  he  went  out, 
and  followed;  and  he  wist  not  that  it  was  true 
which  was  done  by  the  angel,  but  thought  he  saw 
a  vision.  And  when  they  were  past  the  first  and 
the  second  ward,  they  came  unto  the  iron  gate 
that  leadeth  into  the  city ;  which  opened  to  them 
of  its  own  accord :  and  they  went  out,  and  passed 
on  through  one  street;  and  straightway  the  an- 
gel departed  from  him.  And  when  Peter  was 
come  to  himself,  he  said,  Now  I  know  of  a  truth, 
that  the  Lord  hath  sent  forth  his  angel  and  de- 
livered me  out  of  the  hand  of  Herod,  and  from 
all  the  expectation  of  the  people  of  the  Jews. 
And  when  he  had  considered  the  thing,  he  came 
to  the  house  of  Mary  the  mother  of  John  whose 

surname  was  Mark ;  where  manv  were  gathered 
199 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

together  and  were  praying.  And  when  he 
knocked  at  the  door  of  the  gate,  a  maid  came  to 
answer,  named  Ehoda.  And  when  she  knew 
Peter's  voice,  she  opened  not  the  gate  for  Joy, 
but  ran  in,  and  told  that  Peter  stood  before  the 
gate.  And  they  said  unto  her.  Thou  art  mad. 
But  she  confidently  affirmed  that  it  was  even  so. 
And  they  said.  It  is  his  angel.  But  Peter  con- 
tinued knocking:  and  when  they  had  opened, 
they  saw  him,  and  were  amazed.  But  he,  beck- 
oning unto  them  with  the  hand  to  hold  their 
peace,  declared  unto  them  how  the  Lord  had 
brought  him  forth  out  of  the  prison.  And  he 
said.  Tell  these  things  unto  James,  and  to  the 
brethren.  And  he  departed,  and  went  to  another 
place." 

Not  to  you  and  me  in  these  later  times  is  it 
appointed  often  that  the  angels  shall  bring  their 
hands  of  potency  and  break  open  our  prison 
doors  in  our  sight;  yet  I  am  not  doubtful  that 
they  do  come,  and  that  when  our  doors  of  trouble 
open  of  their  own  accord  it  is  because  God's 
angels  have  been  here  to  oil  their  hinges  and 
noiselessly  turn  their  locks.  To  many  a  dear  one 
in  the  last  hour  of  earthly  life  our  Lord  sends 

his  angels,  and.thev  come  in  compassion  and 
200 


Trustful  To-morrows 

give  the  needed  aid.  And  to  an  angel  whatever 
God  bids  is  important;  his  errand  to  a  hovel  is 
as  welcome  as  his  message  to  a  palace.  The 
Eastern  legend  of  the  angel  sent  from  God  to 
give  counsel  to  King  Solomon  and  also  to  help 
on  her  way  back  to  her  people  a  little  yellow  ant, 
burdened  with  a  heavy  load,  has  its  lesson  for  us. 

But  once  we  are  freed  from  the  body  and  its 
limitations,  once  we  are  'safe  at  home,  not  an 
angel,  however  strong  and  beautiful — not  Ga- 
briel, nor  Ithuriel,  nor  Michael — shall  lead  us 
into  the  great  peace;  but  the  Lamb  that  was 
slain,  our  blessed  Eedeemer,  shall  himself  con- 
duct us  to  the  green  pastures  and  the  still  waters. 

To  Moses,  to  Gideon,  to  Elijah,  to  Daniel,  to 
Peter,  to  John,  even  to  the  incarnate  Jesus  him- 
self, the  angels  came  at  need.  To  the  saints, 
ransomed  by  the  precious  blood  and  brought 
home  to  go  no  more  out,  the  Lord  of  the  angels 
shall  give  the  sweet  welcome,  where 

"Ten  thousand. times  ten  thousand, 

In  sparkling  raiment  bright, 
The  armies  of  the  ransomed  saints 

Throng  up  the  steeps  of  light. 
'Tis  finished,  all  is  finished. 

Their  fight  with  death  and  sin. 
Fling  open  wide  the  golden  gates. 

And  let  the  victors  in !" 
201 


Cheerful  To-days  and 


CHAPTEE  XXII 

Talking  With  Our  Heavenly  Father 

Prayer  is  too  often  narrowed  into  a  mere 
begging  of  favors  from  God.  We  are  in  want  of 
many  things;  of  health,  of  a  business  opening, 
of  ease  of  mind,  of  judgment  so  that  we  may 
make  right  decisions.  We  are  solicitous  for  our 
loved  ones;  we  do  not  know  what  is  best  for 
them  and  we  are  afraid  of  making  mistakes,  or 
they  are  ill  and  we  long  for  their  recovery.  In 
our  consciousness  of  need  we  turn  to  God,  peti- 
tioning his  help.  Mrs.  Browning  puts  the  mat- 
ter in  a  couplet, 

"Lips  say,  God  be  pitiful, 

That  ne'er  say,  God  be  praised  !" 

In  the  day  of  our  fullness  and  satisfaction  we 
do  not  seek  the  Lord  as  in  the  day  of  famine  and 
emptiness  if  our  conception  of  prayer  is  merely 
that  prayer  is  a  means  of  getting  what  we  wish 
for. 

Prayer  ought  to  be  more  than  this  to  every- 
one of  us.     The  prayer  which  is  real  is  com- 
'  202 


Trustful  To-morrows 

munion  with  God.  It  is  not  only  a  plea  for 
grace;  it  is  an  acknowledgment  of  grace.  It 
loses  itself  in  the  dear  sense  of  the  endless  love 
of  God  as  a  drop  is  lost  in  the  brimming  cup ;  as 
a  wave  is  lost  in  the  sea.  Prayer  is  adoration. 
It  is  man  lifting  his  soul  to  God  in  rejoicing,  and 
owning  that  every  good  gift  and  every  perfect 
gift  comes  down  from  above.  They  who  live 
near  God  in  daily  life  must  be  often  with  him 
in  prayer,  and  from  the  hour  of  silence  in  his 
presence  they  will  never  fail  to  derive  refresh- 
ment. 

Prayer  may  properly  carry  every  temporal 
anxiety  to  the  throne  of  grace  and  leave  it  there ; 
for  if  God  so  clothe  the  lilies  of  the  field,  as  he 
does  in  their  beautiful  raiment,  shall  he  not 
much  more  clothe  us  ?  But  its  larger  scope,  its 
more  insistent  meaning,  should  lead  it  to  con- 
vey the  desires  of  the  spirit  and  the  soul  to  him 
who  can  make  our  higher  nature  regnant 
over  whatever  is  lower.  The  disciple  will  emu- 
late his  Master  in  intercession  for  those  who 
know  not  the  Lord.  Sometimes  we  exhaust  our- 
selves in  endeavors  for  our  children,  our  friends, 
for  those  who  have  not  found  Christ  precious, 

but  we  forget  that  we  may  do  more  for  them  by 
203 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

talking  about  them  to  our  Heavenly  Father  than 
by  talking  to  them  in  our  own  partial  and  im- 
perfect way. 

If  we  have  the  right  feeling  about  our  rela- 
tion to  this  dear  Saviour,  whose  we  are,  and 
whom  we  serve,  and  are  living  in  an  atmosphere 
of  prayer,  we  shall  shrink  from  no  place  to 
which  he  sends  us.  He  may  direct  us  to  the 
dark  cellar  and  the  attic  room,  to  the  obscure 
and  the  lowly,  to  the  prisoner  in  his  cell,  to  the 
untaught  and  the  illiterate.  Or  he  may  say  to 
the  young  Christian  girl  that  he  wants  her  to 
work  for  him  in  society,  to  shine  for  him  in  the 
drawing-room,  to  move  for  him  sweet  as  a 
flower,  harmonious  as  music,  in  gay  throngs 
where  there  are  few  who  love  him  but  many  who 
need  him.  "I  am  thine,  dear  Lord,"  the  child's 
answer  will  ring  back,  in  response  to  the  com- 
mand, and  in  the  white  satin  and  fine  linen  and 
purple  of  social  splendor  or  in  the  rough  home- 
spun of  poverty  the  child  will  discover  the 
sphere  of  duty.  Each  of  us  in  this  world  fol- 
lowing Christ  is  like  the  ship  which  puts  out  to 
sea  under  sealed  orders,  our  duty  being  just  to 
go  where  we  are  sent. 

Perhaps  you   have   read   the   life   of   Saint 
204 


Trustful   To-morrows 

Theresa,  whose  name  is  in  the  Eoman  calendar, 
and  who  was  a  Spanish  lady  abbess  of  the  Six- 
teenth Century.  She  was  a  woman  of  deep  piety 
and  unreserved  consecration,  and  her  biographer 
tells  us  that  she  entered  wonderfully  into  the 
reality  of  the  Christian  life.  "Our  Lord  was  as 
present,  as  near  and  as  affable  to  this  extraor- 
dinary saint  as  ever  he  was  to  Martha  or  Mary 
Magdalene  or  the  mother  of  Zebedee's  children. 
She  prepared  him  where  to  lay  his  head.  She 
sat  at  his  feet  and  heard  his  word.  She  chose 
the  better  part,  and  he  acknowledged  to  herself 
and  to  others  that  she  had  done  so.  She  washed 
his  feet  with  her  tears  and  wiped  them  with  the 
hair  of  her  head.  She  had  been  forgiven  much 
and  she  loved  much.  He  said  to  her,  'Mary,' 
and  she  answered  him,  'Eabboni !'  And  he  gave 
her  messages  to  his  disciples  who  had  not  waited 
for  him  as  she  had  waited,  till  she  was  able  to 
say  to  them  all  that  she  had  seen  the  Lord,  and 
that  he  had  spoken  such  and  such  things  within 
her."  One  of  Theresa's  talks  about  prayer  ap- 
peals to  many  readers  because  of  its  practical 
application  to  everyday  trials  and  vicissitudes: 
"The  true  proficiency  of  the  soul  consists  not 
so  much  in  deep  thinking  or  eloquent  speaking  or 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

beautiful  writing  as  in  much  and  warm  loving. 
Now  if  you  ask  me  in  what  way  this  much  and 
warm  love  may  be  acquired,  I  answer.  By  resolv- 
ing to  do  the  will  of  God  and  by  watching  to  do 
his  will  as  often  as  occasion  offers.  Those  who 
truly  love  God  love  all  good  wherever  they  find 
it.  They  seek  all  good  to  all  men.  They  en- 
courage all  good  in  all  men.  They  commend  all 
good,  they  always  unite  themselves  with  all 
good,  they  always  acknowledge  and  defend  all 
good.  They  have  no  quarrels.  They  bear  no 
envy.  0  Lord,  give  me  more  and  more  of  this 
blessed  love.  Grant  me  grace  not  to  quit  this 
underworld  life  till  I  no  longer  desire  anything, 
nor  am  capable  of  loving  anything,  save  thee 
alone.  Grant  that  I  may  use  this  word  'love' 
with  regard  to  thee  alone,  since  there  is  no  solid- 
ity for  my  love  to  rest  on  save  in  thee.  The  soul 
has  her  own  ways  of  understanding,  and  of 
finding  in  herself  by  certain  signs  and  great 
conjectures,  whether  she  really  loves  his  Divine 
Majesty  or  no.  Her  love  is  full  of  high  im- 
pulses, and  longings  to  see  and  to  be  with  and 
to  be  like  God.  All  else  tires  and  wearies  out 
the  soul.    The  best  of  created  things  disappoint 

and  torment  the  soul.     God  alone  satisfies  the 
206 


Trustful  To-moerows 

soul,  tOl  it  is  impossible  to  dissemble  or  mistake 
such  a  love.  When  once  I  came  to  see  the  great 
beauty  of  our  Lord  it  turned  all  other  comeliness 
to  corruption  to  me.  My  heart  could  rest  on 
nothing  and  on  no  one  but  himself.  When  any- 
thing else  would  enter  my  heart  I  had  only  to 
turn  my  eyes  for  a  moment  in  upon  that  su- 
preme beauty  that  was  engraven  within  me.  So 
that  it  is  now  impossible  for  any  created  thing 
to  so  possess  my  soul  as  not  to  be  instantly  ex- 
pelled, and  my  mind  and  heart  set  free  by  a 
little  effort  to  recover  the  remembrance  of  the 
goodness  and  beauty  of  our  Lord." 

This  conscious  dwelling  with  Christ  should 
make  the  disciple  a  blithe  companion  on  the 
road.  Andrew  Bonar  of  Scotland,  a  man  much 
in  prayer,  used  to  say,  ''We  should  always  be 
wearing  the  garment  of  praise,  not  just  waving 
a  palm-branch  now  and  then."  "Thanksgiv- 
ing," said  the  same  dear  saint,  "is  the  very  air 
of  heaven.  The  oil  of  joy  calms  down  the  waves 
of  trouble."  Keble  knew  the  secret  of  this  rare 
state  of  mind  when  he  wrote : 

"Who  but  a  Christian  through  all  life 
That  blessing  may  prolong. 

Who,  through  the  world's  sad  day  of  strife. 
Still  chants  his  morning  song. 
207 


CiiEEKPUL  To-days  axd 

"Ever  the  richest,  tenderest  glow 

Sets  round  the  autumnal  sun. 
But  there  sight  fails ;  no  heart  may  know 

The  bliss  when  life  is  done." 

Dr.  A.  J.  Gordon  so  lived  a  life  hidden  with 
Christ  in  God  that  his  very  countenance  shone, 
and  all  sorts  of  men — tramps,  drunkards,  des- 
perate persons — turned  to  him  with  confidence 
knowing  that  he  would  listen  to  their  cry  for 
help,  and  help  them  if  he  could.  He  knew  that 
"a  little  talk  with  Jesus"  better  than  anything 
else  "smooths  the  rugged  way." 

Elizabeth  Prentiss,  wife,  mother,  author, 
friend,  and  as  sanctified  and  set  apart  as  Saint 
Theresa  herself — for  let  no  one  think  that  God 
especially  honors  those  who  from  a  mistaken  de- 
sire to  please  him  retreat  from  the  world — dur- 
ing her  long  and  most  useful  life  spent  much 
time  in  her  closet.  Prayer  was  to  her  the  Chris- 
tian's vital  breath,  and  her  letters,  her  conver- 
sations with  friends,  her  whole  tenor  of  living, 
showed  that  she  was  often  alone  with  God.  She 
wrote  in  her  diary,  at  a  time  when  her  health 
was  much  impaired : 

"Another  peaceful,  pleasant  Sunday,  whose 

onlv  drawback  has  been  the  want  of  strength  to 
208 


Trustful  To-morrows 

get  down  on  my  knees  and  praise  and  pray  to 
my  Saviour,  as  I  long  to  do.  For  well  as  I  am, 
and  astonishingly  improved  in  every  way,  a 
very  few  minutes'  use  of  my  voice,  even  in  a 
whisper,  in  prayer,  exhausts  me  to  such  a  de- 
gree that  I  am  ready  to  faint.  This  seems  so 
strange  when  I  can  go  on  talking  to  any  extent 
— but  then  it  is  talking  without  emotion  and  in 
a  desultory  way.  Ah,  well !  God  knows  best  in 
what  manner  to  let  me  live ;  and  I  desire  to  ask 
for  nothing  but  a  docile,  acquiescent  temper, 
whose  only  petition  shall  be,  'What  wilt  thou 
have  me  to  do?'  not  how  can  I  get  most  enjoy- 
ment along  the  way.  I  can  not  believe,  if  I  am 
his  child,  that  he  will  let  anything  hinder  my 
progress  in  the  divine  life.  It  seems  dreadful 
that  I  have  gone  on  so  slowly,  and  backward  so 
many  times — but  then  I  have  been  thinking 
this  is  'to  humble  and  to  prove  me,  and  to  do  me 
good  in  the  latter  end.'  ...  I  thank  my 
God  and  Saviour  for  every  faint  desire  he  gives 
me  to  see  him  as  he  is,  and  to  be  changed  into 
his  image,  and  for  every  struggle  against  sin 
he  enables  me  to  make.  It  is  all  of  him.  I  do 
wish  I  loved  him  better!     I  do  wish  he  were 

never  out  of  mv  thoughts,  and  that  the  aim  to 
209 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

do  his  will  swallowed  up  all  other  desires  and 
strivings.  Satan  whispers  that  will  never  he. 
But  it  shall  be  I .  One  day — oh,  longed-for, 
blessed,  blissful  day! — Christ  will  become  my 
All  in  all !    Yes,  even  mine !'' 

Again,  she  was  writing  to  a  young  friend  in 
much  trouble  of  mind  concerning  his  salvation : 

"I  dare  not  answer  your  letter,  just  received, 
in  my  own  strength,  but  must  pray  over  it  long. 
It  is  a  great  thing  to  learn  how  far  our  doubts 
and  despondencies  are  the  direct  result  of  physi- 
cal causes,  and  another  great  thing  is,  when  we 
can  not  trace  any  such  connection,  to  bear  pa- 
tiently and  quietly  what  God  permits,  if  he  does 
not  authorize.  I  have  no  more  doubt  that  you 
love  him,  and  that  he  loves  you,  than  that  I  love 
him  and  that  he  loves  me.  You  have  been  daily 
in  my  prayers.  Temptations  and  conflict  are 
inseparable  from  the  Christian  life;  no  strange 
thing  has  happened  to  you.  Let  me  comfort  you 
with  the  assurance  that  you  will  be  taught  more 
and  more  by  God's  Spirit  how  to  resist ;  and  that 
true  strength  and  holy  manhood  will  spring  up 
from  this  painful  soil.  Try  to  take  heart ;  there 
is  more  than  one  foot-print  on  the  sands  of  time 

to  prove  that  'some  forlorn  and  shipwrecked 
210 


Trustful  To-moreows 

brother'  has  traversed  them  before  you,  and 
come  off  conqueror  through  the  Beloved.  Don't 
stop  praying,  for  your  life!  Be  as  cold  and 
emotionless  as  you  please ;  God  will  accept  your 
naked  faith,  when  it  has  no  glow  or  warmth  in 
it;  and  in  his  own  time  the  loving,  glad  heart 
will  come  back  to  you.  You  can't  complain  of 
any  folly  to  which  I  could  not  plead  guilty.  I 
have  put  my  Saviour's  patience  to  every  possible 
test ;  and  how  I  love  him  when  I  think  what  he 
will  put  up  with ! 

"You  ask  if  I  'ever  feel  that  religion  is  a 
sham.'  JSTo;  never.  I  Jcnow  it  is  a  reality.  If 
you  ask  if  I  am  ever  staggered  by  the  incon- 
sistencies of  professing  Christians,  I  say  3^es;  I 
am  often  made  heartsick  by  them;  but  heart- 
sickness  always  makes  me  run  to  Christ,  and  one 
good  look  at  him  pacifies  me.  This  is  in  fact  my 
panacea  for  every  ill ;  and  as  to  my  own  sinful- 
ness, that  would  certainly  overwhelm  me  if  I 
spent  much  time  in  looking  at  it.  But  it  is  a 
monster  whose  face  I  do  not  love  to  see ;  I  turn 
from  its  hideousness  to  the  beauty  of  his  face 
who  sins  not,  and  the  sight  of  'yon  lovely  Man' 
ravishes  me.    But  at  your  age  I  did  this  only  by 

fits  and  starts,  and  suffered  as  you  do.     So  I 
211 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

know  how  to  feel  for  you,  and  what  to  ask  for 
you.  God  purposely  sickens  us  of  man  and  of 
self  that  we  may  learn  to  'look  long  at  Jesus/  " 

One  test  of  our  discipleship  is  found,  I  think, 
just  where  Mrs.  Prentiss  stood  when  she  took 
time  in  her  busy  life  to  pray  for,  and  to  write  to, 
a  friend  about  the  interests  of  the  soul.  Let  us 
interrogate  ourselves  concerning  our  talks  with 
our  Father  in  heaven.  Are  they  altogether  self- 
ish, or  are  we  concerned  for  those  who  are  with- 
out the  pale ;  for  those  whom  we  love  but  who  do 
not  love  Christ  ? 

Do  we  ever  escape  from  the  group  of  our  own 
intimate  acquaintances  and  feel  a  yearning  for 
those  whom  we  do  not  know,  but  for  whom 
Christ  died? 

"There  were  ninety  and  nine  that  safely  lay 
In  the  shelter  of  the  fold." 

They  were  protected  from  the  storm,  but  the 
Shepherd  cared  for  the  one  that  was  out  in  the 
wilderness,  and  his  voice  said, 

"I  go  to  the  desert  to  find  my  sheep." 

The   true  heroes   of    Christendom  to-day   are 

those  men  and  women  who,  caring  not  for  ease 

and  scorning  luxury,  are  willing  to  endure  hard- 
212 


Trustful  To-mokrows 

ship,  privation  and  loneliness,  living  in  remote 

fastnesses  of  the  mountains,  in  Chinese  villages, 

in  Hindu  cities,  in  fishers'  huts  by  the  Arabian 

Sea,  that  they  may  tell  the  lost  of  the  Saviour. 

They  could  never  bear  their  lives  if  they  were 

not  often  in  prayer,  if  talking  with  the  Heavenly 

Father  were  not  their  meat  and  drink. 
15  213 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

CHAPTER  XXIII 
Devout  Women  of  an  Elder  Day 

Star-like  in  its  radiance,  the  story  of  Euth, 
the  fair  maiden  of  Moab  who,  when  her  young 
husband  died,  clung  so  loyally  to  her  sorrowful 
mother-in-law,  still  beams  from  the  sacred  page. 
Euth  in  those  old  days  was  as  unique  as  any 
Enid,  Elaine,  or  Priscilla  of  a  later  time. 

A  certain  man  of  Beth-lehem-judah,  by  name 

Elimelech,  finding  it  impossible  to  care  for  his 

family  during  one  of  the  famines  which  visited 

the  land,  emigrated  with  them  to  the  country 

of  Moab.    We  are  not  to  imagine  that  Elimelech 

meant  to  remain  in  Moab  beyond  the  immediate 

exigence  of  the  situation.    He  went  to  sojourn 

there,  to  stay  where  there  Avas  pasture  for  his 

flocks  and  food  for  his  household  and  where  his 

sons  could  grow  up  in  comfort,  until  again  the 

rains  should  fall  and  the  harvests  spring,  and 

his  native  Beth-lehem  be  again  a  house  of  bread. 

Sojourn  carries  in  its  very  meaning  and  sound 

a  significance  which  we  know  when  we  talk  of 

doing  things  bv  the  day. 
214 


Trustful   To-morrows 

But  the  little  family  group  was  never  again  to 
dwell  in  one  home  in  the  dear  land  where  Elim- 
elech  had  wooed  ISTaomi,  in  the  pleasant  land 
where  the  true  God  was  worshiped  and  in  all  the 
sanctuary  rites  there  was  a  foreshadowing  of  the 
Lamb  slain  from  the  foundation  of  the  world. 
They  continued  a  long  while  in  Moab,  and  made 
friends  there,  and  there  Elimelech  died,  and 
Xaomi  was  left  a  widow,  with  two  sons  who, 
after  the  Oriental  fashion,  married  and  brought 
home  their  wives,  to  be  to  her  as  daughters.  One 
was  Orpah,  one  was  Euth ;  and  for  ten  years  they 
dwelt  together,  when  Mahlon  and  Chilion  both 
died.  Then  indeed  was  Xaomi  left  desolate,  for 
in  the  alien  country  her  roots  had  not  struck 
deeply,  and  she  turned  in  her  homesick  misery 
to  go  back  to  her  own  people  and  her  father's 
house. 

Nothing  can  exceed  the  pathos  of  the  story. 
E'aomi  embraced  her  daughters-in-law,  and  bade 
them  leave  her. 

"Wherefore  she  went  forth  out  of  the  place 

where  she  was,  and  her  two  daughters-in-law 

with  her;  and  they  went  on  the  way  to  return 

unto  the  land  of  Judah.    And  ^STaomi  said  unto 

her  two  daughters-in-law,  Go,  return  each  to  her 
215 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

mother  s  house :  the  Lord  deal  kindly  with  you, 
as  ye  have  dealt  with  the  dead,  and  with  me." 

But  they  refused  to  go,  Orpah  partially,  Euth 
absolutely;  Orpah  went  back,  gently  reluctant, 
but  after  all  relieved  and  light  of  heart,  to  her 
own  family,  her  mother,  and  her  gods,  to  find  a 
husband  in  Moab,  and  to  be  heard  of  no  more 
forever. 

Not  so  Euth.  She  clung  to  the  weeping 
Naomi,  offering  her  young  strength  to  aid  that 
weakness  of  oncoming  age.  In  words  which, 
though  familiar  through  much  repetition,  still 
drip  with  sweetness  and  vibrate  with  melody 
she  said:  "Entreat  me  not  to  leave  thee,  or  to 
return  from  following  after  thee:  for  whither 
thou  goest,  I  will  go ;  and  where  thou  lodgest,  I 
will  lodge:  thy  people  shall  be  my  people,  and 
thy  God  my  God:  where  thou  diest,  will  I  die, 
and  there  will  I  be  buried:  the  Lord  do  so  to 
me,  and  more  also,  if  aught  but  death  part  thee 
and  me." 

Thenceforward  the  two  women  walked  on  to- 
gether, and  came,  mother  and  daughter  bound 
by  a  new  and  tender  tie,  to  Beth-lehem.  The 
landscape  beckoned  Naomi ;  to  Euth  it  was  the 

land  of  exile,  bravely  chosen  and  not  unwelcome. 
216 


Teustful  To-moheows 

She  was  going  with  Naomi  to  Naomi's  old 
friends  and  acquaintances,  but  also  to  care  and 
toil  and  poverty ;  for  Naomi  went  out  full  and 
was  returning  empty. 

It  was  the  beginning  of  the  barley  harvest, 
and  in  those  days  the  rich,  according  to  the 
thoughtful  consideration  of  the  Mosaic  economy, 
made  a  certain  provision  for  the  poor  by  leaving 
ears  for  them  to  glean  in  the  track  of  the  reapers. 
Boaz  was  a  noble  and  generous  citizen  of  Beth- 
lehem, and  though  not  next  of  kin  was  of  the 
family  of  Elimelech.  Naomi  sent  Euth  to  glean 
in  the  rich  man's  fields  •  he  saw  and  was  at- 
tracted by  the  lovely  girl ;  in  due  season  he  mar- 
ried her  and  thus  redeemed  the  debt  which  their 
kindred  owed  to  those  who  were  gone.  Euth, 
thus  entering  in  the  Messianic  line,  became  the 
grandmother  of  David  and  an  ancestress  of  Him 
who  was  the  lily  of  the  valley  and  the  rose  of 
Sharon,  the  bright  and  morning  star  of  the 
world's  darkness,  the  hope  of  Israel,  the  Friend 
and  Master  of  the  great  company  of  the  ran- 
somed. Thus  met  Gentile  with  Jew  in  the  lin- 
eage of  the  Christ. 

Loyalty,  obedience,  cheerfulness   and  faith 

seem  the  distinguishing  characteristics  of  the 
217 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

beautiful  Kuth.  A  country  girl,  reared  among 
the  mountains  and  the  fields,  she  brought  to  the 
statelier  and  more  luxurious  life  which  was  hers 
as  the  wife  of  Boaz  the  traditions  and  the 
strength  of  the  hills.  Reared  in  idolatry,  she 
came  out  of  its  fetters  into  the  freedom  of  the 
one  true  worship,  into  the  company  of  those  who 
adored  Jehovah.  She  forsook  her  own  people 
and  her  father's  house,  and  to  her  was  fulfilled 
in  abundant  measure  the  word  spoken  by  the 
Lord :  "Instead  of  thy  fathers  shall  be  thy  chil- 
dren, whom  thou  shalt  make  princes  in  all  the 
earth ;  I  will  make  thy  name  to  be  remembered 
in  all  generations;  therefore  shall  the  peoples 
give  thee  thanks  forever  and  ever." 

Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning,  describing  a 
beautiful  and  unselfish  woman,  said  of  her, 
words  which  might  have  been  applied  with  equal 
fitness  to  Euth  of  Moab : 

"Her  air  had  a  meaning,  her  movements  a  grace ; 
You  turned  from  the  fairest  to  gaze  on  her  face ; 
And  when  you  had  once  seen  her  forehead  and  mouth 
You  saw  as  distinctly  her  soul  and  her  truth. 

"I  doubt  if  she  said  to  you  much  that  could  act 
As  a  thought  or  suggestion  ;  she  did  not  attract 
In  the  sense  of  the  brilliant  or  wise  ;  I  infer 
'Twas  her  thinking  of  others  made  you  think  of  her." 
218 


Trustful  To-morrows 

Longfellow,  in  a  very  familiar  lyric,  alluded  to 
our  heroine  thus;  it  is  a  lover  addressing  his 
beloved : 

"Long  was  the  good  man's  sermon 

But  it  seemed  not  so  to  me. 
For  he  spake  of  Ruth  the  beautiful, 

And  then  I  thought  of  thee." 

As  long  as  time  endures,  poet  and  painter  will 

turn  wistfully  toward  the  vision  of  the  fair 

woman  gleaning  "amid  the  alien  com,"  and  all 

generations  shall  call  her  blessed. 

Many  years  later  the  gifted  grandson  of  Euth 

already  predestined  to  be  king  of  Israel,  with  the 

chrism  of  Samuel's  flask  upon  his  head  but  in 

peril  of  life  through  the  enmity  of  Saul,  was 

wandering,   an  outlaw,   in   the   wilderness   of 

Paran.    A  band  of  other  outlaws,  brave,  daring, 

and  adventurous,  the  Eobin  Hoods  of  the  period, 

surrounded  their  splendid  young  captain  and 

did  his  bidding.     In  Carmel,  near  the  forests 

where  David  and  his  men  found  shelter,  there 

was  a  rich  and  very  great  man  who  had  flocks 

and  herds.     There  are  men  to-day  who  count 

their  wealth  by  many  figures,  and  who  are  as 

sordid  of  heart  and  as  truly  paupers  in  spirit  as 

was  Nabal  the  churl.    He  had  three  thousand 
219 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

eheep  and  a  thousand  goats  and  the  annual  sheep 
shearing  had  come,  and  a  very  natural  request 
was  sent  to  the  owner  of  these  vast  flocks  by  the 
soldier,  who  for  many  months  had  not  only  re- 
frained from  molesting  the  shepherds  of  Nabal 
but  had  with  a  strong  hand  kept  other  maraud- 
ers away.  The  Bible  narrative  is  Homeric  in  its 
simplicity : 

''And  David  heard  in  the  wilderness  that 
Nabal  did  shear  his  sheep.  And  David  sent  out 
ten  young  men,  and  David  said  unto  the  young 
men.  Get  j'ou  up  to  Carmel,  and  go  to  Nabal,  and 
greet  him  in  my  name :  and  thus  shall  ye  say  to 
him  that  liveth  in  prosperity,  Peace  be  both 
to  thee,  and  peace  be  to  thine  house,  and  peace 
be  unto  all  that  thou  hast.  And  now  I  have 
heard  that  thou  hast  shearers:  now  thy  shep- 
herds which  were  with  us,  we  hurt  them  not, 
neither  was  there  aught  missing  unto  them,  all 
the  while  they  were  in  Carmel.  Ask  thy  young 
men,  and  they  will  shew  thee.  Wherefore  let  the 
young  men  find  favour  in  thine  eyes;  for  we 
come  in  a  good  day :  give,  I  pray  thee,  whatso- 
ever cometh  to  thine  hand  unto  thy  servants,  and 
to  thy  son  David.     And  when  David's  young 

men  came,  they  spake  to  Nabal  according  to  all 
220 


TuUSTfUL   TO-MOREOWS 

those  words  in  the  name  of  David,  and  ceased. 
And  Nabal  answered  David's  servants,  and  said, 
Who  is  David?  and  who  is  the  son  of  Jesse? 
there  be  many  servants  nowadays  that  break 
away  every  man  from  his  master.  Shall  I  then 
take  my  bread,  and  my  water,  and  my  flesh  that 
I  have  killed  for  my  shearers,  and  give  it  nnto 
men,  whom  I  know  not  whence  they  be?  So 
David's  young  men  turned  their  way,  and  went 
again,  and  came  and  told  him  all  those  sayings. 
And  David  said  unto  his  men.  Gird  ye  on  every 
man  his  sword.  And  they  girded  on  every  man 
his  sword ;  and  David  also  girded  on  his  sword : 
and  there  went  up  after  David  about  four  hun- 
dred men ;  and  two  hundred  abode  by  the  stuff. 
But  one  of  the  young  men  told  Abigail,  Nabal's 
wife,  saying.  Behold,  David  sent  messengers  out 
of  the  wilderness  to  salute  our  master;  and  he 
railed  on  them.  But  the  men  were  very  good 
unto  us,  and  we  were  not  hurt,  neither  missed 
we  any  thing,  as  long  as  we  were  conversant  with 
them,  when  we  were  in  the  fields.  They  were  a 
wall  unto  us  both  by  night  and  day,  all  the  while 
we  were  with  them  keeping  the  sheep.  Now 
therefore  know  and  consider  what  thou  wilt  do, 

for  evil  is  determined  against  our  master  and 
221 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

against  all  his  house,  for  he  is  such  a  son  of 
Belial  that  one  cannot  speak  to  him." 

Abigail,  Nabal's  wife,  was  a  comely  matron  of 
rare  understanding,  the  type  of  the  prudent 
housewife,  a  great  lady,  with  a  heart  and  brain 
which  rose  to  meet  the  occasion.  David  was 
riding  rapidly  towards  her  home,  with  four 
hundred  fierce  and  angry  armed  men;  such  an 
armament  as  might  well  cause  terror  to  spring 
in  the  breasts  of  those  against  whom  its  attack 
was  presently  to  be  made.  They  were  famished 
men  too,  gaunt  with  hunger,  and  sterner  for 
privation  and  disappointment;  reckless,  and 
justly  resentful  at  ingratitude  and  insult.  Ac- 
cording to  the  canons  of  their  day,  they  were 
fully  within  their  right  in  visiting  a  swift  and 
titter  wreck  on  Nabal  and  his  house.  Indeed,  in 
the  war  canons  of  any  day,  hatred,  malice,  wrath 
and  cruelty  stalk  unrebuked,  and  David's  in- 
tended onslaught  on  Xabal  is  not  without  its 
parallels  in  our  nineteenth  century. 

Abigail,  wise  woman  that  she  was,  lost  no 
time.  The  men  must  be  conciliated.  They  were 
starving  and  must  be  appeased  by  food.  Hastily 
she  gathered  such  provision  as  in  a  well  ap- 
pointed household  was  at  her  hand. 


Trustful  To-moreows 

"Then   Abigail   made   haste   and  took   two 

hundred  loaves,  and  two  bottles  of  wine,  and 

five   sheep   ready   dressed,   and   five   measures 

of    parched    corn,    and    an    hundred    clusters 

of    raisins,    and    two    hundred    cakes   of   figs, 

and  laid  them  on  asses.     And  she  said  unto 

her  young  men.    Go   on  before   me;   behold, 

I    come    after   you.      But    she    told   not    her 

husband  Nabal.    And  it  was  so,  as  she  rode  on 

her  ass,  and  came  down  by  the  covert  of  the 

mountain,  that,  behold,  David  and  his  men  came 

down  against  her;  and  she  met  them.     N"ow 

David  had  said.  Surely  in  vain  have  I  kept  all 

that  this  fellow  hath  in  the  wilderness,  so  that 

nothing  was  missed  of  all  that  pertained  unto 

him:  and  he  hath  returned  me  evil  for  good. 

God  do  so  unto  the  enemies  of  David,  and  more 

also,  if  I  leave  of  all  that  pertain  to  him  by  the 

morning  light  so  much  as  one  man  child.    And 

when  Abigail  saw  David,  she  hasted,  and  lighted 

off  her  ass,  and  fell  before  David  on  her  face, 

and  bowed  herself  to  the  ground.    And  she  fell 

at  his  feet,  and  said.  Upon  me,  my  lord,  upon  me 

be  the  iniquity :  and  let  thine  handmaid,  I  pray 

thee,  speak  in  thine  ears,  and  hear  thou  the 

words  of  thine  handmaid.    Let  not  my  Lord,  I 
223 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

pray  thee,  regard  this  man  of  Belial,  even 
Nabal :  for  as  his  name  is,  so  is  he ;  Nabal  is  his 
name,  and  folly  is  with  him :  but  I  thine  hand- 
maid saw  not  the  yoimg  men  of  my  lord,  whom 
thou  didst  send.  Now  therefore,  my  lord,  as  the 
Lord  liveth,  and  as  thy  soul  liveth,  seeing  the 
Lord  hath  withholden  thee  from  bloodguiltiness, 
and  from  avenging  thyself  with  thine  own  hand, 
now  therefore  let  thine  enemies,  and  them  that 
seek  evil  to  my  lord,  be  as  Nabal.  And  now  this 
present  which  thy  servant  hath  brought  unto 
my  lord,  let  it  be  given  unto  the  young  men  that 
follow  my  lord.  Forgive,  I  pray  thee,  the  tres- 
pass of  thine  handmaid :  for  the  Lord  will  cer- 
tainly make  my  lord  a  sure  house,  because  my 
lord  fighteth  the  battles  of  the  Lord;  and  evil 
shall  not  be  found  in  thee  all  thy  days.  And 
though  man  be  risen  up  to  pursue  thee,  and  to 
seek  thy  soul,  yet  the  soul  of  my  lord  shall  be 
bound  in  the  bundle  of  life  with  the  Lord  thy 
God ;  and  the  souls  of  thine  enemies,  them  shall 
he  sling  out,  as  from  the  hollow  of  a  sling.  And 
it  shall  come  to  pass,  when  the  Lord  shall  have 
done  to  my  lord  according  to  all  the  good  that 
he  hath  spoken  concerning  thee,  and  shall  have 

appointed  thee  prince  over  Israel ;  that  this  shall 
224 


Trustful  To-morrows 

he  no  grief  unto  thee,  nor  offence  of  heart  unto 
my  lord,  either  that  thou  hast  shed  blood  cause- 
less, or  that  my  lord  hath  avenged  himself :  and 
when  the  Lord  shall  have  dealt  well  with  my 
lord,  then  remember  thine  handmaid.  And 
David  said  to  Abigail,  Blessed  be  the  Lord,  the 
God  of  Israel,  which  sent  thee  this  day  to  meet 
me :  and  blessed  be  thy  wisdom,  and  blessed  be 
thou,  which  hast  kept  me  this  day  from  blood- 
guiltiness,  and  from  avenging  myself  with  mine 
own  hand.  For  in  very  deed,  as  the  Lord,  the 
God  of  Israel,  liveth,  which  hath  withholden  me 
from  hurting  thee,  except  thou  hadst  hasted  and 
come  to  meet  me,  surely  there  had  not  been  left 
unto  Nabal  by  the  morning  light  so  much  as  one 
man  child.  So  David  received  of  her  hand  that 
which  she  had  brought  him:  and  he  said  unto 
her.  Go  up  in  peace  to  thine  house ;  see,  I  have 
hearkened  to  thy  voice,  and  have  accepted  thy 
person." 

We  may  note  the  exceeding  tact  of  Abigail  in 
her  approach  to  David,  in  her  choice  of  a  gift  to 
be  sent  on  before  her,  and  in  her  appeal  to  his 
higher  nature.  When  the  days  of  his  obscurity 
and  peril  should  have  passed,  and  the  Lord 
should  have  brought  him  unto  honor  and  do- 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

minion,  she  told  him  it  would  be  a  grief  of  heart 
to  remember  having  needlessly  shed  innocent 
blood.  Her  wit,  discretion  and  good  sense  pre- 
vailed, and  David  withheld  his  men  from  vio- 
lence and  left  Nabal's  estate  in  peace.  Nabal 
indeed  died  soon  after,  but  it  was  at  the  hand  of 
the  Lord  and  not  by  the  weapons  of  David. 

Abigail's  portrait  might  well  have  been  in 
Solomon's  mind  when  he  drew  the  model  woman 
in  matchless  lines : 

'^ho  can  find  a  virtuous  woman?  for  her 
price  is  far  above  rubies.  The  heart  of  her  hus- 
band doth  safely  trust  in  her,  so  that  he  shall 
have  no  need  of  spoil.  She  will  do  him  good 
and  not  evil  all  the  days  of  her  life.  .  .  . 
She  looketh  well  to  the  ways  of  her  household 
and  eateth  not  the  bread  of  idleness." 

We  do  not  know  the  name  of  the  Queen  of 
Sheba,  but  she  had  courage,  and  curiosity,  and 
a  desire  to  learn  more  than  she  could  in  her  own 
land,  and  so,  when  rimiors  were  brought  to  her 
of  a  young  monarch  who  was  wise  and  master- 
ful, and  possessed  of  the  favor  of  the  Most  High, 
she  came  with  a  very  great  train — camels  that 
bare  spices  and  gold  in  abundance  and  precious 

stones.    One  can  see  the  grand  lady  in  her  litter, 
22G 


Tkustful  To-morrows 

her  guards  around  her,  her  soldiers  riding  in 
front  and  rear,  and  far  behind  her ;  the  ships  of 
the  desert  slowly  passing  with  their  freight  of 
the  precious  and  the  rare.  We  have  only  a 
glimpse  of  her  as  she  is  entertained  by  King 
Solomon,  and  we  can  picture  her  surprise  and 
pleasure  as  she  finds  that  the  half  has  not  been 
told  her  of  the  state  and  splendor  which  sur- 
rounded him.  No  doubt  she  carried  back  new 
ideas  to  her  people  and  her  friends,  and  a  glim- 
mering of  the  light  which  was  yet  to  lighten  the 
world. 

Esther,  the  Jewish  girl  who  was  elevated  to 
the  throne  of  Persia,  divides  with  Euth  the  in- 
terest of  Bible  readers,  since  she  too  was  young 
and  fair,  and  since  in  immortal  youth  and 
beauty  she  moves  through  the  course  of  history. 
Ahasuerus  has  little  to  commend  him  to  our 
admiration.  This  proud,  petulant,  arrogant 
and  despotic  sovereign  first  deeply  insulted  his 
wife.  Queen  Vashti,  and  then  childishly  deposed 
her  from  her  position.  A  succession  of  young 
women  were  inspected,  as  slaves  in  the  market 
might  be,  before  one  was  found  w;ho  in  all  re- 
spects pleased  the  royal   tyrant.      One  pities 

Esther  even  when  she  obtained  grace  and  favor 
227 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

in  the  sight  of  the  king,  and  when  he  loved  her 
above  all  the  women.  Xo  love,  as  we  know  that 
pure  and  hallowed  passion,  could  exist  in  the 
breast  of  a  polygamous  Eastern  king.  Esther 
simply  entered  the  harem  as  chief  favorite,  with 
the  distinction  of  being  the  king's  wife  and  per- 
haps the  mother  of  his  heir.  It  may  be  that 
Vashti  was  childless,  in  which  case  she  would 
have  lost  one  of  her  strongest  holds  on  the  hus- 
band who  paid  her  so  little  respect. 

We  know  the  story — how  Haman  plotted  to 
destroy  the  Jews  by  wholesale,  then  as  now  the 
Hebrews,  by  reason  of  sagacity,  thrift  and  su- 
preme cleverness,  being  objects  of  envy  to  other 
and  less  gifted  nations ;  and  how  Mordecai  dis- 
covered and  defeated  the  wicked  conspiracy, 
aided  by  Esther,  who  alone  could  help  her  peo- 
ple in  the  crisis.  Her  "If  I  perish,  I  perish,"  as 
she  waits  for  the  king  to  extend  the  golden  scep- 
ter, still  touches  our  hearts. 

Not  so,  dear  friends,  need  we  approach  the 

presence  chamber  of  our  gracious   Lord  and 

King.    He  is  ever  extending  the  scepter  of  his 

merciful  favor,  and  when  we  will  we  may  go  to 

him,  sure  of  an  audience,  and  sure  of  a  reception 

full  of  kindness  and  compassion. 
228 


Trustful  To-morkows 

N'o  one  who  has  with  care  perused  the  Old 

Testament  narratives  has  failed  to  observe  the 

recognition  given  to  motherhood.    The  mothers 

made  the  men,  then  as  now,  and  if  a  king  were 

good  or  were  bad,  were  reverent  or  profane,  one 

had  not  to  look  very  far  to  see  what  sort  of 

mother  brought  him  up. 
16  229 


Cheerful  To-days  and 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

Daily  Problems 

In  the  Morning 

Here's  a  new  day  ;  blessed  Jesus, 
Wilt  thou  take  it  for  thine  own? 

In  its  hours  may  I  serve  thee, 
Looking  ever  to  the  throne. 

Keep  me  in  the  strong  temptation 

That  I  may  not  fall  away, 
Be  thy  love  my  full  salvation 

From  Satanic  wiles  to-day. 

Hold  me  safe  in  sudden  trial. 
Let  me  know  thy  presence  near; 

Give  me  grace  for  self-denial, 
Present  blessing,  Saviour  dear. 

If  this  day  an  earthly  friendship 
Fail  me  like  the  smoking  flax, 

Let  my  hold  on  thee  be  firmer. 
Nor  my  grasp  "of  heaven  relax. 

Wholly  thine,  my  blessed  Master, 

Wholly  thine,  in  work  or  rest, 
This  day,  all  days,  till  the  last  one 

When  I  lean  me  on  thy  breast. 

I  was  present  the  other  day  when  several 

young  people  were  discussing  the  character  of 

a  relative  slightly  known  to  me,  and  just  then 
230 


Trustful  To-moeeows 

an  object  of  sympathy  because  she  had  lost  her 
home. 

"I  don't  know  what  will  become  of  her,"  said 
Katharine.  "Cousin  Dorinda  is  a  good  woman, 
nobody  can  doubt  her  piety,  but  she  is  very  hard 
to  live  with.  Somehow,  she  never  fits  in  any- 
where. Where  another  person  would  conciliate 
she  antagonizes,  and  a  spirit  of  contention  fol- 
lows wherever  she  goes." 

Her  own  sister  said :  "If  Dorinda  is  to  come 
here  I  might  as  well  break  up  housekeeping  at 
once.    She  would  ruin  the  peace  of  our  home." 

Louise  took  up  the  conversation.  "Yes,"  she 
said,  thoughtfully,  "I  know.  Cousin  Dorinda  ia 
very  sensitive.  If  she  cannot  have  her  own  way 
she  either  goes  about  looking  black  and  sullen 
like  a  thunder  cloud,  making  everybody  wretch- 
ed, or  else  she  melts  into  tears,  and  cries  and 
puts  the  family  in  the  wrong.  Nobody  has  ever 
had  patience  with  her  except  grandmother,  and 
now  that  she  is  gone  nobody  on  this  earth  wants 
Dorinda.  She  is  simply  an  impossible  person  in 
a  household.  She  is,  as  Katharine  says,  Tiard 
to  live  with/  " 

My  thoughts  went  very  sorrowfully  toward 

this  absent  Dorinda,  whose  disposition  was  so 
231 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

unfortunate.  Our  mothers  do  bear  with  us  when 
the  rest  of  the  world  refuses  its  tolerance,  and 
hers  had  apparently  borne  with  her.  But  the 
patient  mother  heart  was  no  longer  here,  and 
friends  and  kith  and  kin  were  all  afraid  of  the 
constant  companionship  of  Dorinda.  She  was 
not  rich  enough  to  live  by  herself  in  independ- 
ence, nor  strong  enough  to  go  out  in  the  business 
world  and  find  employment  by  which  she  could 
earn  her  bread.  A  good  housekeeper,  a  lady  by 
birth  and  training,  a  member  of  the  church,  and, 
I  am  sure,  a  sincere  disciple  of  Christ,  Dorinda, 
at  forty-five,  was  desired  nowhere,  because  of  her 
"contrary  ways."  In  those  two  words  a  nephew 
summed  up  his  opinion  of  the  aunt  Avhom  he 
emphatically  hoped  would  not  take  up  her  abode 
under  his  roof.  She  was  a  woman  of  contrary 
ways. 

Thinking  it  over,  it  came  to  me  that  Dorinda 
had  been  making  herself  an  unpopular  and  un- 
desired  member  of  society  by  slow  degrees,  and 
during  a  term  of  years.  As  a  child  and  a  young 
girl  she  had  been  a  little  willful,  perhaps,  and 
perhaps  a  trifle  too  pronounced  in  her  manner  of 
stating  a  position  and  holding  up  her  end  of  an 

argument.     Gradually,  a  little  at  a  time,  her 
232 


Trustful  To-moeeows 

peculiarities  had  become  intensified.  She  had 
allowed  her  temper  to  triumph  over  politeness 
and  kindness.  She  had  lost  self-control.  She 
had  grown  difficult;  a  person  to  be  studied;  a 
person  of  moods  and  caprices,  a  person  unloving, 
I  am  afraid,  and  whom  people  did  not  love. 

If  I  were  writing  about  the  duties  of  others  to 
Dorinda  I  would  drop  a  hint  that  it  would  be 
well  to  exercise  gentleness  to  a  woman  in  her 
case,  to  be  specially  tender  and  considerate,  as 
one  would  be  to  an  invalid  or  a  crippled  person, 
since  here  was  a  calamity,  not  to  the  body,  but 
to  the  heart  and  mind.  I  did  not  feel  that 
Louise  and  Katharine  and  the  young  nephew 
were  wholly  in  the  right,  as  I  observed  how  lack- 
ing in  charity  they  were  to  their  kinswoman. 
But  I  am  not  writing  for  them  to-day,  and  so  I 
will  just  quote  a  favorite  Scripture  text  and  pass 
on  to  my  subject:  "We  that  are  strong  ought 
to  bear  the  infirmities  of  the  weak."  Even  in- 
firmities like  those  of  a  cross,  resentful,  and  an- 
nojing  person  in  the  family  may  be  borne  with 
serenity  by  those  who  are  strong  and  recruit 
their  strength  daily  by  prayer  to  Christ. 

But  does  it  ever  appeal  to  you,  dear  young 

girl,  to  you,  Marjorie  or  Dorothy,  that  a  time 
233 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

may  come  when  your  acquaintances  may  speak 
of  YOU  pityingly,  as  one  who  has  ways,  and 
moods,  and  who  is  not  easy  to  get  on  with  ?  How 
would  you  like  it,  if,  having  grown  older,  you 
should  observe  that  younger  people  were  shy  of 
being  their  real  selves  in  your  company  ?  That 
they  repressed  speech,  and  studied  your  expres- 
sion, and  were  afraid  to  be  mirthful  if  you  were 
in  the  room?  Every  middle-aged  or  elderly 
woman  or  man  who  has  ever  had  this  humiliat- 
ing experience  was  once  young ;  and  there  was  a 
beginning,  when  faults  which  are  now  blots  upon 
his  or  her  individuality  were  so  small  that  no  one 
suspected  their  existence. 

The  lesson  for  us,  every  one,  is  to  be  watchful 
of  our  manner;  watchful  of  our  words.  We 
should  daily  seek  to  grow  in  unselfishness  and  in 
likeness  to  the  Saviour.  Few  of  us  will  ever 
have  the  opportunity  to  perform  great  deeds  of 
heroism,  but  to  every  one  of  us  there  is  given  the 
chance  day  by  day  to  be  sweet  and  gracious  and 
winsome.  No  one  who  reads  this  need  ever  be- 
come, like  poor  Miss  Dorinda,  a  dread  to  her 
friends  and  family  if  only  she  will  begin  now  to 
cultivate  the  art  of  responsive  kindness;  if  she 
will  determine  to  be  easv,  not  hard,  to  live  with. 

234 


Trustful  To-morrows 

From  living  together  in  the  home  the  transit 
tion  is  easy  to  living  together  in  the  church  and 
in  the  community.  "We  cannot  separate  our- 
selves from  the  people  next  door,  nor  from  the 
acquaintances  over  the  way,  nor  from  the  friends 
in  the  opposite  pew.  It  still  exists,  though  if  we 
form  our  conclusions  from  observations  taken  in 
our  great  bustling  cities  we  shall  be  quite  ready 
to  affirm  that  neighborliness  is  a  thing  of  the 
past.  One  is  more  and  more  struck  with  the  un- 
friendliness of  a  great  town.  You  do  not  know 
— often  you  do  not  care  to  know — the  people 
who  live  next  door  to  you  on  either  side,  and  the 
dwellers  on  the  opposite  corner  or  at  the  other 
end  of  the  street  are  as  remote  from  your  con- 
sciousness as  if  they  lived  in  Patagonia.  It  hap- 
pens not  infrequently  that  you  grow  accustomed 
to  certain  familiar  figures:  an  old  gentleman 
with  a  gold-headed  cane ;  a  lady  who  wears  the 
dignity  of  her  eighty  years  as  she  does  her  satin 
cloak  and  velvet  bonnet.  After  a  while  these 
persons  cease  to  be  denizens  of  the  street.  They 
have  grown  feeble  and  are  remaining  indoors, 
or  they  have  faded  out  of  life.  The  brisk  busi- 
ness man  who  goes  at  the  same  hour  each  morn- 
ing to  his  office  or  shop,  who  catches  a  certain 
235 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

car  at  the  corner,  becomes  known  to  you  as  a 
resident  in  the  vicinity,  but  you  have  no  particu- 
lar curiosity  about  his  name  or  circumstances.  • 

One  day  you  go  home  from  a  round  of  visits, 
or  from  your  own  business  office,  and  you  see  a 
wreath  of  flowers  on  the  door-bell  of  the  neigh- 
boring house,  and  people  going  in  and  out,  and 
you  are  aware  that  that  gray  and  shadowy  angel, 
who  impartially  visits  every  home  in  the  world 
when  its  turn  comes,  has  crossed  your  neigh- 
bor's threshold.  But  it  is  nothing  to  you.  Pos- 
sibly you  inquire  the  circumstances ;  very  likely 
you  remind  yourself  that  you  did  not  know  the 
person  in  life,  and  that  you  have  no  right  to  in- 
trude with  inquiries  or  sympathy  upon  the  sur- 
vivors— who  have  their  own  friends  and  do  not 
need  you. 

If  you  have  had  your  early  home  in  a  sociable, 
friendly  village  where  everybody  knew  everybody 
else,  where  it  was  the  custom  to  hob-nob  over  the 
garden  gate  with  the  man  nest  door — ^where  the 
whole  town  rejoiced  when  some  great  honor  or 
happiness  came  to  a  child  of  the  place  and  the 
whole  town  grieved  when  there  was  a  corre- 
sponding sorrow — you  feel  very  lonesome  and 

desolate  in  your  first  plunge  into  city  life. 
236 


Trustful  To-morrows 

Do  not,  however,  forget  that  in  our  country 
there  are  many  phases  of  life ;  and  that  while  a 
nomad  instinct  has  hrought  many  wayfarers  to 
the  city,  to  find  the  solitude  of  crowds,  yet  there 
still  are  joy  and  love  and  friendliness  in  many 
smaller  towns  and  villages  and  along  the  pleasant 
country-side.  It  still  happens  that  a  neighbor 
in  one  of  these  blessed  smaller  places,  finding 
herself  suddenly  able  to  take  a  week's  journey 
with  her  husband,  may  call  upon  her  friend  next 
door  to  mother  her  brood  while  she  is  gone.  Xot 
long  ago,  in  a  lovely  Southern  town  where  I  was 
visiting,  I  called  upon  a  beautiful  and  childless 
woman  whose  charming  home  was  at  the  mo- 
ment fairly  overflowing  with  juvenile  life.  Lit- 
tle white-haired  boys  and  girls  were  playing  on 
the  veranda  with  their  dolls  and  little  carts,  a 
motherly  black  nurse  sat  on  the  door-step  with 
a  dimpled  baby  in  her  arms,  and  my  friend  ob- 
served: "My  neighbor  has  gone  to  California 
and  I  am  taking  care  of  her  children  for  her 
until  she  returns."  Could  sisterly  kindness  go 
farther  than  this  ?  For  the  friends  were  simply 
friends — ^not  relatives — and  this  kind  neighbor 
was  taking  on  herself  the  responsibility  of  look- 
ing after  the  possible  accidents  which  might  be- 
237 


CiiEEBFUL  To-days  and 

fall  a  flock  of  restless  boys,  the  possible  croups 
and  fevers  which  might  attack  the  little  ones  in 
the  night,  while  the  mother  went  happily  away 
on  her  Journey  without  a  care;  knowing  how 
safe  her  children  would  be  in  the  hands  of  her 
friend. 

In  the  same  city,  if  company  unexpectedly  ar- 
rives and  the  dessert  is  not  sufficient,  near  neigh- 
bors are  quite  willing  to  go  without  theirs  that 
the  friend  whose  guests  have  come  may  not  find 
herself  at  a  loss.  Pies  and  puddings,  creams  and 
custards,  are  sent  over  the  back  fence;  and  in 
one  instance,  when  a  husband  unexpectedly 
brought  home  with  him  three  old  college-mates 
who  had  dropped  in  upon  him  from  space,  his 
wife,  knowing  that  the  modest  steak  provided 
for  dinner  would  not  satisfy  these  hungry  appe- 
tites, went  confidently  to  her  neighbor  next  door. 
An  exchange  was  presently  effected,  and  a  goodly 
roast  smoking  from  the  oven  made  its  appear- 
ance on  the  table  where  it  was  needed,  while  the 
steak  changed  hands  and  sufficed  for  the  wants 
of  the  family  who  had  no  company.  This  kind 
of  pleasant,  unofficial  neighborliness  has  not 
departed  from   a   thousand   of  our   Southern 

towns,  from  our  New  England  villages,  and 
238 


Trustful  To-morrows 

from  our  blessed  comitry  homes  in  any  part  of 
the  land. 

In  our  cities  we  have  many  advantages;  as, 
for  example,  the  trained  nurse,  who  comes  at 
a  moment's  call  in  the  hour  of  calamity  or  anx- 
iety or  of  severe  illness,  but  in  country  places 
where  the  trained  nurse  is  not  easily  attainable 
there  are  yet  to  be  found  kind  and  motherly 
women  with  faculty,  women  who  understand 
nursing,  and  who  come  to  a  household  in  its 
hour  of  extremity  and  do  their  womanly  best. 
"My  husband  lay  at  death's  door  for  weeks,"  said 
a  friend  to  me.  "I  don't  know  what  I  should 
have  done  if  my  neighbors  had  not  taken  turns 
in  helping  me  care  for  him."  Thinking  of  in- 
stances like  this  one  repeats  the  old  Bible  phrase 
with  thankfulness,  "Better  is  a  neighbor  that  is 
near  than  a  brother  that  is  far  off." 

I  question  if  we  do  not  lose  a  great  deal  by 
limiting  our  neighborly  acquaintance  and  our 
neighborly  interchange  of  kindness  as  we  do  in 
our  town  life.  Many  a  time  there  is  an  aching 
heart  not  far  off  which  we  may  cheer.  Often, 
if  we  would  encourage  the  impulse,  we  might  be- 
come pleasantly  acquainted  with  people  divided 

from  us  only  by  a  narrow  partition  wall,  and  it 
239 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

would  do  us  good  and  not  evil  to  come  in  touch 
with  their  lives.  There  is  a  certain  sadness  in 
the  thought  that  we  sometimes  niiss  an  acquaint- 
ance and  after  a  little  interval  of  daj's  or  weeks 
inquire  what  has  become  of  her,  and  are  told 
that  she  was  buried  at  such  a  time.  We  might 
at  least  have  gone  to  take  a  look  at  the  still  face 
or  laid  a  flower  upon  the  coffin.  That  act  of 
kindness  would  not  have  hurt  us,  and  it  might 
have  been  bahn  and  sweetness  to  some  wounded 
and  mourning  heart. 

Indooks  at  Night 

Keen  and  cold  is  the  wintry  blast 

As  the  sleet  and  snow  go  driving  past ; 

There's  a  strife  in  the  old  trees,  racked  and  bent. 

The  clouds  hang  low  o'er  the  firmament, 

But  the  household  gathers  safe  and  warm, 

Folded  close  from  the  freezing  storm  ; 

The  lamp  is  lighted,  the  hearth  is  bright, 

And  the  dear  ones  are  cozy  indoors  at  night. 

And  when  shutters  are  closed  and  curtains  drawn. 
And  the  toiling  hours  of  the  day  are  gone. 
Sweet  words  are  spoken,  good  nights  are  said 
To  the  wee  ones  tucked  in  the  little  bed. 
(God's  grace  watch  over  each  curly  head !) 
Then  with  book,  and  talk,  and  the  dear  old  song 
We  have  loved  since  the  days  when  we  were  young. 
We  will  fill  the  hours  with  love's  delight, 
Cozy  and  happy  indoors  at  night. 
240 


Trustful  To-:*iokrows 

Trust 

I  know  not  if  to-morrow 

Shall  bless  me  like  to-day ; 
Of  night  I  sometimes  bori'ow 

Dark  clouds  and  shadows  gray; 
For  sinful,  sick  and  weary, 

Of  this  I  still  am  sure  : 
No  clouds  or  shadows  dreary 

Shall  my  sweet  heaven  obscure. 

Oh,  much  is  left  uncertain 

In  this  strange  life  below ; 
But  faith  lifts  up  the  curtain 

And  sees  the  inner  glow  ; 
And  nothing  now  can  move  me, 

Nor  shake  my  joy  so  pure  ; 
For  Christ  has  stooped  to  love  me, 

And  of  his  love  I'm  sure. 

If  the  Lord  Should  Come 

If  the  Lord  should  come  in  the  morning 
As  I  went  about  my  work — 

The  little  things  and  the  quiet  things 
That  a  servant  cannot  shirk, 

Though  nobody  ever  sees  them. 
And  only  the  dear  Lord  cares 

That  they  always  are  done  in  the  light  of  the  sun- 
Would  he  take  me  unawares? 

If  my  Lord  should  come  at  noonday, 

The  time  of  the  dust  and  heat, 
When  the  glare  is  white,  and  the  air  is  still. 

And  the  hoof-beats  sound  in  the  street — 
If  my  dear  Lord  came  at  noonday. 

And  smiled  in  my  tired  eyes, 
Would  it  not  be  sweet  his  look  to  meet? 

Would  he  take  me  by  surprise? 
241 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

If  my  Lord  came  hither  at  evening, 

In  the  fragrant  dew  and  dusk, 
When  the  world  di'ops  off  its  mantle 

Of  daylight  like  a  husk 
And  flowers  in  wonderful  beauty, 

And  we  fold  our  hands  and  rest. 
Would  his  touch  of  my  hand,  his  low  command. 

Bring  me  unhoped-for  zest? 

Why  do  I  ask  and  question? 

He  is  ever  coming  to  me. 
Morning  and  noon  and  evening, 

If  I  have  but  eyes  to  see. 
And  the  daily  load  grows  lighter, 

The  daily  cares  grow  sweet, 
For  the  Master  is  near,  the  Master  is  here, 

I  have  only  to  sit  at  his  feet. 

Good  Intentions 

What  wonderful  things  we  have  planned.  Love, 

What  beautiful  things  we  have  done, 
What  fields  we  have  tilled,  what  gifts  we  have  willed. 

In  the  light  of  another  year's  sun  ! 
When  we  think  of  it  all  we  are  baffled. 

There's  so  much  that  never  comes  true ; 
Because,  Love,  instead  of  our  doing, 

We're  always  just  meaning  to  do. 

The  friends  we  are  wanting  to  help.  Love, 

They  struggle  alone  and  forlorn, 
By  trial  and  suffering  vanquished. 

Perchance  by  temptation  o'erborne  : 
But  the  lift,  and  the  touch,  and  the  greeting 

That  well  might  have  aided  them  through 
The  perilous  strait  of  ill-fortune, 

They  miss  :  we're  but  meaning  to  do. 
242 


Trustful  To-morrows 

We  dream  of  a  fountain  of  knowledge ; 

We  loiter  along  on  its  brink, 
And  toy  with  the  crystalline  waters, 

Forever  just  meaning  to  drink. 
Night  falls,  and  our  tasks  are  unfinished, 

Too  late  our  lost  chances  we  rue, 
Dear  Love,  while  our  comrades  were  doing 

We  only  were  meaning  to  do. 

Betake  Thyself  to  Prayeb 

When  bitter  winds  of  trouble  blow, 
And  thou  art  tossing  to  and  fro. 
When  waves  are  rolling  mountain  high, 
And  clouds  obscure  the  steadfast  sky. 
Fear  not,  my  soul ;  thy  Lord  is  there. 
Betake  thyself,  my  soul,  to  prayer. 

When  in  the  dull  routine  of  life 

Thou  yearnest  half  for  pain  and  strife. 

So  weary  of  the  commonplace. 

Of  days  that  wear  the  self -same  face, 

Think  softly,  soul ;  thy  Lord  is  there. 

And  then  betake  thyself  to  prayer. 

When  brims  thy  cup  with  sparkling  joy. 
When  happy  tasks  the  hours  employ, 
When  men  with  praise  and  sweet  acclaim 
Upon  the  highway  speak  thy  name. 
Then,  soul,  I  bid  thee  have  a  care ; 
Seek  oft  thy  Lord  in  fervent  prayer. 

If  standing  where  two  pathways  meet. 
Each  beckoning  thy  pilgrim  feet, 
Thou  art  in  doubt  which  road  to  take, 
Look  up,  and  say  :  "For  thy  dear  sake — 
O  Master !  show  thy  footprints  fair — 
I'd  follow  thee."    Christ  answers  prayer. 
243 


Cheekful  To-days  axd 

The  tempter  oft,  with  wily  toil, 
Seeks  thee,  my  soul,  as  precious  spoil ; 
His  weapons  never  lose  their  edge, 
But  thou  art  Heaven's  peculiar  pledge. 
Though  Satan  rage,  thy  Lord  is  there- 
Dear  soul,  betake  thyself  to  prayer. 
2U 


Trustful  To-morrows 


CHAPTER  XXV 
With  Level  Eyes 

"I  HAD  never  realized  my  mother  as  an  in- 
dividual," said  a  grown  daughter,  "until  she 
came  to  visit  our  college  at  commencement.  To 
me  she  had  always  been  just  'mother' — the  dear- 
est, best,  most  tender  and  considerate  of  moth- 
ers ;  but  I  never  compared  her  with  any  one,  or 
saw  her  as  she  was  to  others,  or  thought  of  her  as 
a  noble  woman,  able  to  hold  her  own  anywhere, 
till  I  looked  at  her  away  from  her  own  back- 
ground. At  last  I  saw  her  with  level  eyes,  and  I 
was  proud  of  my  mother." 

To  the  mother  it  comes  almost  with  a  shock, 

that  her  daughter,  the  little  girl  whom  she 

cradled  in  her  arms,  whose  little  frocks  she  sat 

up  at  night  to  finish,  whose  goings  to  and  fro 

she  ordained,  who  was  hers  to  rule  and  to  guide, 

has  become  a  personality,  herself  grown  up. 

When  the  daughter  abides  in  the  household, 

slipping  by  unmarked  stages  from  childhood 

into  youth,  from  youth  into  maturity,  the  older 
17  245 


Cheeeful  To-dajs  and 

woman  often  fails  to  notice  that  the  younger  has 
emerged  from  the  period  of  pupilage  and  re- 
straint, and  too  long  holds  fast  to  the  reins  of 
authority  which  should  not  be  held  over  one 
whose  responsibilities  are  those  of  the  adult 
human  being.  We  often  meet  undeveloped 
daughters  even  in  this  period  of  assertive 
womanhood;  daughters  who  dwell  in  their 
fathers'  houses  with  little  freedom  of  action, 
with  no  private  purse,  and  with  the  coercion  of 
child  life,  long  after  the  sweetness  and  the  de- 
pendence of  childish  days  are  over. 

I  have  known  women  whose  faces  bore  tell- 
tale lines  of  discontent,  whose  brown  hair  began 
to  show  threads  of  silver,  and  who  chafed  under 
their  lack  of  personal  freedom,  yet  felt  entirely 
helpless  to  change  the  aspect  of  affairs.  Their 
mothers  had  never  discovered  that  the  children 
were  grown  up.  They  still  exacted  the  peculiar 
deference  and  obedience  due  from  a  child  under 
tutors  and  governors  to  those  who  bore  rule  over 
him  or  her.  A  daughter  might  be  forty,  but  she 
could  not  go  on  a  visit,  or  buy  a  new  gown,  or 
join  a  class  or  a  club,  or  do  anything,  small  or 
great,  without  asking  and  obtaining  her  moth- 
er's consent. 

246 


Teustful  To-morbows 

At  a  glance  one  sees  how  limiting  and  dwarf- 
ing such  a  condition  must  be.  Of  necessity,  and 
for  love's  sake,  daughters  must  always  be  defer- 
ential to  mothers,  but  there  comes  a  day  when 
they  must  stand  on  their  own  feet  and  answer 
for  their  own  actions.  Married,  they  at  once 
take  this  independent  place  in  the  world ;  so  that 
a  bride  of  eighteen  may  have  more  actual  free- 
dom than  a  spinster  of  thirty.  But  when  a 
woman  is  grown  up,  whether  single  or  married, 
she  is  entitled  to  the  privileges  of  her  age.  And 
if  parents  are  wise,  and  can  possibly  afford  it, 
they  will  secure  to  the  daughter  at  home,  not 
self-supporting  and  living  under  their  roof, 
enough  money  regularly  given,  as  an  allowance, 
to  keep  her  from  feeling  like  a  mendicant  or  a 
pauper.  If  they  cannot  do  this,  and  the  daugh- 
ter desires  it,  they  should  interpose  no  objection 
to  her  going  out  from  home  to  engage  in  what- 
ever employment  she  is  best  fitted  for  or  for 
which  she  can  most  readily  receive  training. 

When  our  daughters  front  us  ''with  level 
eyes"  something  beyond  motherhood  and  child- 
hood enters  into  the  relation.  A  higher  friend- 
ship, a  fuller  sympathy,  a  dearer  bond  may  come 
with  the  years,  and,  being  possible,  should  cer- 

247 


CiiEEEFUL  To-days  and 

tainly  come  to  pass  in  great  sweetness  and 
strength. 

We  live  in  a  period  of  which  a  certain  marked 
unrest  on  the  part  of  our  young  women  is  a  sig- 
nificant feature.  Girlhood  has  been  said  by  a 
thoughtful  observer  to  be  not  altogether  a  happy 
time  of  life,  though  it  is  so  happy-looking.  To 
whatever  cause  it  may  be  due,  economic  or  other- 
wise, whether  owing  to  the  richer  intellectual 
culture  or  to  the  growing  independence  of  the 
eex,  or  the  greater  need  of  money  and  the  mul- 
tiplied doors  of  occupation  in  professional  and 
business  life  swinging  open  at  a  woman's  touch, 
the  fact  is  patent  that  home  no  longer  attracts 
cur  girls  as  it  once  did.  They  are  apt  to  look 
farther  afield  for  their  work.  Many  of  them  are 
eager  to  try  their  powers  in  the  market-place; 
many  of  them  have  aspirations  and  ambitions 
which  domesticity  does  not  wholly  satisfy. 

Our  girls  are  not  to  be  blamed  for  this  con- 
dition of  things,  which  is  perhaps  only  a  tem- 
porary phase  and  the  sign  of  a  transitional 
epoch.  But  I  would  ask  the  educated  and  ear- 
nest young  woman  of  the  day  to  weigh  carefully 
the   opportunities,    privileges    and    obligations 

which  the  home  and  family  offer,  before  she  de- 

248 


Trustful  To-morrows 

cides  that  there  is  a  worthier  sphere  than  this 
for  the  Christian  woman.  I  believe  profoundly 
that  a  happy  marriage  is  the  most  blessed  state 
into  which  woman  can  be  called.  I  regard 
honored  motherhood  as  the  most  queenly  posi- 
tion in  the  earth  to-day.  If  a  good  man  loves  a 
girl,  and  she  consents  to  marry  him,  she  will 
enter,  however  poor  the  two  may  be,  however 
they  may  have  to  struggle,  on  a  career  far  more 
useful  and  satisfying  than  any  open  to  her  as  a 
wage-earner  or  a  worker.  Let  the  Christian 
woman  illustrate  in  her  home  life  the  beauty  of 
holiness. 

The  mother  has  the  first  beginnings  of  life, 
the  molding  and  the  guiding  of  childhood.  The 
Christian  mother  can  hardly  help  bringing  her 
little  ones  to  Christ. 

Daughters  and  sisters  should  show  loving  at- 
tention to  father  and  brothers  in  the  home,  and 
there  comes  a  day  when  mothers  are  tired,  or 
perhaps  ill,  and  they,  too,  need  sorely  the  tender 
and  patient  ministry  of  the  young  lives  which 
but  lately  were  dependent  on  their  care.  To 
Christian  daughters  I  would  say,  "Be  loving 
and  sweet  to  your  mothers.'* 

The  other  day,  as  I  sat  by  my  window,  I  was 
249 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

the  observer  of  a  little  incident  which  set  in 
motion  the  train  of  thought  reaching  from  my 
quiet  home  to  you,  wherever  you  are.  I  live  on 
a  street  which  has  a  smooth  asphalt  pavement 
greatly  in  favor  with  wheelmen  and  women,  and 
there  are  few  hours  between  morning  and  bed- 
time when  young  people  are  not  flying  up  and 
down  its  lengths  on  their  magical  machines. 

A  very  pretty  girl  came  sweeping  along,  man- 
aging her  bicycle  with  the  graceful  ease  of  a  con- 
fident and  skillful  rider.  Her  face  was  glowing 
with  health,  her  dress  was  most  becoming,  and 
her  whole  air  was  that  of  one  accustomed  to  the 
courtesies  of  polite  society,  and  used,  on  her  own 
part,  to  much  gentleness  and  consideration. 
Yet,  when  another  girl,  evidently  a  novice, 
Bwerved  awkwardly  and  narrowly  escaped  col- 
liding with  her,  the  pretty  young  woman  shocked 
and  amazed  the  observer  in  the  shadow  of 
the  curtains  by  exclaiming,  angrily,  "Great 
BcottI  I  wish  you  would  look  where  you  are 
going!" 

There  was  a  bit  of  wholly  unconscious  revela- 
tion of  character.  I  saw  that  my  beautiful 
maiden  was  not  like  the  King's  daughter,  *'all 

glorious  within."    She  had  caught,  perhaps  from 
250 


Trustful  To-mokeows 

a  schoolboy  brother,  the  trick  of  slang;  she  was 
impatient,  she  was  hasty  of  speech  and  temper, 
and  she  failed  to  make  allowance  for  the  inex- 
perience of  another.  I  was  saddened,  and  I 
wished  with  my  whole  heart  that  the  young  girl 
could  realize  how  unfortunate  for  herself  was 
the  frame  of  mind  and  the  habit  of  petulance 
which  had  made  possible  her  impetuous  remon- 
strance. Life  may  discipline  her  by  greater 
trials  than  the  clumsy  blunder  of  a  fellow  trav- 
eler on  the  road,  and  by  and  by  she  may  learn  to 
repress  the  vehement  word  of  irritation.  But 
what  I  long  for,  when  I  think  of  her,  and  of 
thousands  like  her,  is  that  they  may  not  feel  the 
impulse  to  hasty  vexation  with  the  errors  or 
even  with  the  carelessness  of  others.  It  is  a 
noble  thing  so  to  live  that  the  face,  manner, 
Toice,  and  what  the  Bible  aptly  terms  *Valk  and 
conversation,"  are  the  expressions  of  inward 
poise,  serenity  and  sweetness. 

"Such  a  one  does  not  love  her  sister,"  said  a 
friend  not  long  ago,  coming  from  a  home  where 
an  invalid  had  been  lying  at  death's  door  for 
weeks. 

'*Why  do  you  think  so?"  was  the  inquiry,  a 

very  natural  one  in  the  circumstances. 
251 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

*1  notice,"  the  reply  came  slowly,  "that  she 
has  nothing  to  say  of  Jean's  sufferings,  or  of 
Jean's  marvelous  patience  and  fortitude;  that 
she  is  only  impressed  with  Jean's  occasional  f  or- 
getf ulness  to  thank  her  for  a  kindness,  and  that 
she  dwells  mainly  on  her  own  fatigue,  and  the 
number  of  invitations  she  has  had  to  decline 
owing  to  this  ill-timed  illness  on  Jean's  part. 
Love  suffereth  long,  and  is  kind ;  love  vaunteth 
not  itself,  is  not  easily  provoked ;  therefore,  love 
would  lead  the  sister  who  is  well  to  take  a  dif- 
ferent tone  about  the  sister  who  is  laid  aside  on 
a  bed  of  pain." 

"She  would  disclaim  any  lack  of  affection," 
said  the  other ;  "and  there  is  the  excuse  for  her, 
too,  that  she  has  had  a  long  strain,  and  is  tired." 

**That  last  I  grant ;  nevertheless,  whether  she 
is  or  is  not  aware  of  it,  she  is  not  in  love  with 
Jean.  The  revelation  on  her  part  is  entirely 
unconscious ;  but  it  is  a  plain  revelation." 

Perhaps  you  have  often  heard  people  say  that 

what  one  is  is  of  more  consequence  than  what 

one  does,  and  you  have  fancied  the  saying  rather 

trite.    It  is,  however,  profoundly  true.    One  who 

goes  on  his  way  living  the  Christ-life,  brave, 

honest,  fearless,  unselfish  and  magnanimous, 
252 


Trustful  To-morkows 

wins  others  to  the  Christ  because  he  shows  forth 

the  spirit  of  the  Master.    One  who  has  not  kept 

his  soul  a  spotless  chamber  for  the  indwelling 

Christ  will  constantly  reveal,  when  he  does  not 

dream  it,  the  insincerity  of  his  professions.    We 

must  be  good  if  we  would  do  good.    "We  must 

reveal  ourselves  in  a  thousand  ways,  whether  we 

mean  to  or  not;  and  if  Christ  be  in  us,  as  the 

lamp  that  guides,  we  shall  reveal  Christ. 
253 


Cheerful  To-days  and 


CHAPTER  XXYI 
Young  Women  and  Self-support 

All  thoughtful  observers  must  be  aware  of  a 
significant  change  in  the  point  of  view  as  regards 
the  relations  of  young  women  to  the  everyday 
world.  In  my  girlhood  it  was  not  customary  for 
the  daughters  of  well-to-do  men  to  engage  in 
work  outside  the  doors  of  their  homes.  A  man 
took  it  for  granted  that  his  boys  should  study 
for  a  profession,  acquire  a  trade,  or  enter  upon 
business  life.  "John  Smith  &  Sons"  was  in  the 
anticipated  order  of  things.  There  is  an  old  and 
well-known  house  on  Broadway,  New  York,  to- 
day, of  which  the  style  is  "John  So-and-So,  Sons 
&  Sons."  This  is  really  a  survival  of  what 
was  formerly  the  almost  invariable  routine.  A 
man  did  not  expect  his  girls  to  become  bread- 
winners while  he  was  alive  to  earn  their  bread, 
and  people  would  have  been  rather  shocked  in 
that  conservative  time  at  the  idea  of  Mary's  be- 
coming a  reporter,  Charlotte  a  saleswoman,  Ma- 
tilda a  nurse,  Rebecca  a  visiting  housekeeper. 

The  young  ladies  helped  their  mother  at  home, 
254 


Trustful  To-moeeows 

did  a  good  deal  of  nursing  when  any  one  "was  ill, 
were  kind  and  neighborly,  made  their  own 
frocks  on  occasion,  shopped,  visited,  were  shel- 
tered, protected,  and  regarded  as  ornaments  to 
the  family  circle.  Sometimes  a  girl  taught; 
once  in  a  while  one  wrote  and  had  poems  and 
stories  published,  but  rather  under  the  rose.  It 
was  not  a  thing  to  be  bruited  about  in  common 
talk,  nor  proclaimed  from  the  housetops.  Gen- 
erally girls  married  in  the  later  teens,  or  the 
early  twenties,  and  one  who  did  not  marry  be- 
fore twenty-six  was,  poor  child,  called  rather 
pityingly  an  old  maid,  and  had  a  sort  of  nimbus 
of  commiseration  around  her  head  until  she  was 
forty,  when  her  spinsterhood  was  taken  as  a  mat- 
ter of  course,  and,  unless  she  wedded  a  widower 
with  a  large  family  of  growing  children,  she  be- 
came the  unofficial  aunt  at  large  of  the  whole 
community. 

We  used  to  hear  of  failures  in  business  which 
were  openly  attributed  to  the  extravagance  of 
Brown's  wife  and  daughters.  Poor  man !  he  had 
to  pay  for  their  dresses  and  diamonds,  their  car- 
riage and  horses,  and  he  went  under.  Have  yoxi 
noticed  that  one  does  not  often  hear  such  a  mis- 
fortune in  these  days  thus  accounted  for?  A 
255 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

man  comes  to  wreck  in  the  business  world  of 
this  period  because  of  too  little  capital,  or  too 
much  expansion,  or  too  great  competition,  or 
too  entire  trust  in  the  honesty  of  others;  not 
because  he  has  a  train  of  women  tugging  at  his 
heels  and  clamoring  for  gewgaws  and  furbelows. 
The  point  of  view  has  entirely  changed. 

It  was  once  a  very  common  thing  to  be  told 
that  a  man  had  remained  a  bachelor  for  the 
reason — accepted  as  a  valid  one  by  his  friends 
and  society — that  he  had  sisters  whom  he  must 
support.  Poor  Dennis  could  not  afford  to  choose 
a  wife — ^there  were  Charlotte  and  Clarrissa  who 
were  unmarried,  and  for  them  he  must  provide 
life's  bread  and  butter  every  day  and  life's  pot 
of  honey  when  he  could.  And  people  thought 
this  as  it  should  be.  A  man,  of  course,  was 
bound  to  provide  for  his  female  relatives.  That 
they  should  be  sent  out  to  battle  with  the  world 
did  not  accord  with  conventional  ideas  of  pro- 
priety. 

The  Civil  War,  among  its  other  upheavals, 

brought  about  the  first  radical  change  in  this 

state  of  things.    So  many  men  died  in  battle  or 

in  hospital,  so  many  men  came  home  crippled  or 

permanently  disabled,  that  women,  thrust  from 
256 


Trustful  To-morrows 

the  nest,  were  forced  to  enter  fields  hitherto  pre- 
empted by  men.  Widows  and  orphans  found 
that  clerkships  could  be  filled  by  them  as  by  their 
husbands,  fathers  and  brothers  in  the  past.  A 
study  of  statistics  shows  how  sweeping  and  re- 
markable and  rapid  a  change  in  the  labor  market 
was  due  to  the  Civil  War. 

Then,  closely  following  this  epoch,  came  the 
beginning  of  what  we  loosely  call  the  higher 
education  of  women.  The  entrance  of  women 
on  the  business  world  speedily  made  evident  the 
fact  that  a  different  sort  of  training  was  needed 
from  that  given  in  the  excellent  academies  and 
schools  from  which  refined,  sweet  and  capable 
women  had  hitherto  emerged.  Colleges  for 
women  must  exist,  with  curriculums  as  com- 
prehensive and  examinations  as  rigid  as  those 
belonging  to  colleges  for  men. 

The  second  generation  of  women  graduates 
will  soon  be  fairly  launched  upon  our  country 
and  ready  to  take  a  hand  in  its  affairs.  Our 
girls  of  to-day,  whether  their  fathers  be  rich  or 
poor,  are,  almost  universally,  eagerly  reaching 
forward  to  careers.  They  scorn  dependence. 
Far  from  accepting  what  parents  are  often  anx- 
ious to  give,  many  girls  are  restless  and  unhappy 
257 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

unless  or  until  they  can  secure  a  place  where 
they  may  test  their  powers,  show  their  mettle, 
and  earn  and  keep  a  foothold  for  themselves. 

One  cannot  but  at  times  regret  that  the  pen- 
dulum has  swung  so  very  far  in  the  other  direc- 
tion, so  that  to-day  comparatively  few  young 
women,  let  their  circumstances  be  easy  or  the 
reverse,  are  contented  to  settle  down  and  become 
that  beautiful  and  attractive  personage,  the 
daughter  of  the  home.  One  feels  a  certain  sym- 
pathy with  fathers  and  mothers  growing  old, 
and  longing  for  the  companionship  of  youth  in 
the  family,  when  one  observes  how  very  gener- 
ally the  girl,  leaving  school  and  college,  finds  the 
domestic  routine  wearisome,  and  looks  about 
her  for  any  outside  work  which  may  come  to  her 
hand.  "I  have  no  need  to  support  myself,  and 
no  special  talent  for  one  thing  more  than  an- 
other," said  a  girl  the  other  day,  "but  I  simply 
cannot  go  back  to  the  little  dead  and  alive  village 
where  I  spent  my  childhood  and  vegetate  there 
as  my  mother  has  done  all  her  life."  I  cannot 
but  believe  that  there  is  something  at  fault  in 
the  education  which  suffers  young  women  to 
keep  in  lines  so  narrow,  which  allows  them  to  be 

60  franklv  self -considerate,  and  which  fails  to 
258 


Teustful  To-moeeows  ^- 

Bhow  them  that  there  is  nowhere  in  the  land  the 
sphere  so  obscure  and  so  limited  that  a  Christian 
woman  may  not  there  let  her  light  shine. 

The  army  of  poor  girls,  girls  who  must  earn 
their  living  or  be  paupers,  is  so  large,  and  its 
needs  are  so  imperative,  that  rich  girls,  by  whom 
I  mean  aU  girls  who  have  no  necessity  to  be  self- 
BTipporting,  should  think  most  seriously  before 
they  increase  the  pressure  on  the  labor  market. 
This  remark  applies  particularly  to  such  girls 
as  the  one  whose  declaration  I  have  just  quoted ; 
for  genius  is  a  law  unto  itself,  and  a  recognized 
vocation  should  be  respected,  if  it  be  for  science, 
art,  or  any  department  of  human  effort.  Phi- 
lanthropy has  so  many  openings  for  well-to-do 
girls.  Broadly  speaking,  however,  rich  girls 
should  not  crowd  their  poorer  sisters  to  the  wall 
unless  they  are  very  sure  that  the  highest  duty 
requires  it ;  a  call  higher  than  caprice  or  the  de- 
fiire  to  be  independent,  the  real  call  of  duty, 
''stem  daughter  of  the  voice  of  God." 

The  old  complaint  that  men  are  more  highly 
paid  than  wonien  for  services  of  the  same  char- 
acter is  largely  modified  in  our  period.  The 
labor  organizations  have  protective  legislation 

for  women  on  this  very  subject,  and  the  profes- 
2.59 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

sional  woman,  if  able  and  successful,  is  paid  for 
her  work  according  to  its  value,  and  no  discount 
is  made  for  sex.  The  vast  volume  of  women 
pressing  into  stenography  and  typewriting, 
and  into  shops,  may  help  to  cut  down  the  general 
rate  of  salaries,  but  there  is  not  now  the  unfair 
discrimination  in  favor  of  men  which  was  once  a 
crying  evil.  One  poorly-paid  profession,  that  of 
teaching,  never  estimated  at  its  true  worth  when 
the  matter  is  of  salary,  still  holds  to  old  stand- 
ards, and  a  man  devoting  his  time  and  talents 
to  teaching  receives  more  money  at  the  end  of 
his  term  than  a  woman  can  command  for  equal 
service  rendered.  But  the  conditions  of  the 
labor  market  are  much  more  just,  so  far  as 
women  are  in  concern,  than  they  used  to  be. 
Also,  the  standard  is  higher,  and  a  woman  is 
more  rigidly  held  to  the  best  possible  work  than 
in  the  past. 

Our  self-supporting  girls  are,  in  the  cities, 
learning  to  create  households  of  their  own;  a 
half  dozen  artists,  journalists,  students  of  music 
or  business  women  combine  their  means,  rent  a 
small  apartment,  secure  an  elder  sister  or  a 
mother  as  their  chaperone,  engage  a  maid,  and 

live  BO  cosily  and  charmingly  that  the  thought 
260 


Trustful  To-moero\vs 

of  marriage  and  a  home  of  their  individual  own 
is  much  less  attractive  than  it  might  be  if  they 
lived  solitary  lives  in  uncomfortable  boarding 
houses.  This  is,  perhaps,  not  to  be  regretted; 
since  marriage,  for  any  reason  except  the  com- 
pelling reason  of  sincere  and  uncalculating  love, 
is  very  undesirable  and  something  less  than 
sacred,  and  should  not  be  entered  upon  by 
woman  or  man.  Still,  one  notes,  as  indicative 
of  the  temper  of  the  hour,  a  growing  indifference 
to  marriage  on  the  part  of  our  educated  young 
people. 

When  the  march  begins  in  the  morning, 
And  the  heart  and  the  foot  are  light ; 

When  the  flags  are  all  a-flutter. 
And  the  world  is  gay  and  bright ; 

When  the  bugles  lead  the  column, 

And  the  drums  are  proud  in  the  van. 
It's  shoulder  to  shoulder,  forward,  march ! 

Ah  !  let  him  lag  who  can ! 

For  it's  easy  to  march  to  music 

With  your  comrades  all  in  line. 
And  you  don't  get  tired,  you  feel  inspired, 

And  life  is  a  draught  divine. 

When  the  march  drags  on  at  evening 

And  the  color-bearer's  gone ; 
When  the  merry  strains  are  silent 

That  piped  so  brave  in  the  dawn ; 
18  261 


Cheeetul  To-days  and 

When  you  miss  the  dear  old  fellows 

Who  started  out  with  you ; 
When  it's  stubboi-n  and  sturdy,  forward,  march ! 

Though  the  ragged  lines  are  few ; 

Then  it's  hard  to  march  in  silence. 
And  the  road  has  lonesome  grown, 

And  life  is  a  bitter  cup  to  drink, 
But  the  soldier  must  not  moan. 

And  this  is  the  task  before  us, 

A  task  we  may  never  shirk ; 
In  the  gay  time  and  the  sorrowful  time 

We  must  march  and  do  our  work. 

We  must  march  when  the  mu^ic  cheers  tiB, 
March  when  the  strains  are  dumb, 

Plucky  and  valiant,  forward,  march ! 
And  smile,  whatever  may  come. 

For,  whether  life's  hard  or  easy. 

The  strong  man  keeps  the  pace ; 
For  the  desolate  march  and  the  silent 

The  strong  soul  finds  the  grace. 
262 


Trustful  To-moeeows 


CHAPTER  XXYII 
Counting  the  Blessings 

Because  out  griefs  and  cares  loom  large  upon 
the  horizon  of  our  life  they  are  apt  to  overcloud 
our  sk}^  and  cover  our  pathway  with  darkness. 
It  is  a  good  plan  when  tempted  to  depression  to 
count  our  blessings.  Even  the  griefs  may  be 
blessings  in  disguise,  since 

"God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way 

His  wonders  to  perform, 
He  plants  his  footsteps  in  the  sea 

And  rides  upon  the  storm ;" 

but  there  are  obvious  sunshiny,  beautiful  and 
glad  experiences  in  our  days  which  we  cannot 
but  enumerate  if,  with  fair  and  candid  minds, 
we  look  at  their  tenor  and  think  of  the  good  hand 
of  our  God. 

First,  there  are  the  blessings  which  accom- 
pany our  ordinary  health.  For  many  reasons 
the  average  rate  of  health  in  most  communities 
is  higher  than  it  formerly  was.  People  under- 
stand that  there  are  hvgienic  laws  to  be  fol- 
263 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

lowed;  that  sleep,  and  food,  and  exercise,  com- 
fortable clothing  and  ventilation  have  their 
place  in  keeping  men  and  women  well.  We 
often  sin  against  the  body,  by  overwork  or  by 
over  indulgence,  and  nature  makes  her  reprisals, 
but  if  we  treat  the  body  with  the  right  degree 
of  respect  and  with  common  sense  we  may  usu- 
ally be  free  from  illness.  Health  means  ability 
to  do  our  work,  it  means  an  even  disposition,  it 
means  nerves  sheathed  against  pain  and  weari- 
ness: it  implies  strength  in  reserve,  so  that  we 
do  not  always  draw  upon  our  balance  but  have 
something  left  over  for  an  emergency.  Surely 
among  our  chief  mercies  we  should  include 
health,  with  its  attendant  grace  of  serenity,  its 
capacity  for  enjoyment  and  its  basis  for  enthu- 
siasm. 

Among  everyday  blessings  we  may  next  men- 
tion our  homes.  What  joy  to  turn  one's  own 
latch-key  at  night.  What  pleasure  in  laying  the 
tired  head  on  one's  own  pillow.  I  never  see  the 
crowds  of  toilers  going  home  after  a  hard  day's 
work  without  a  pleasant  thought  of  the  many 
little  household  fires,  the  children's  tumultuous 
rush  to  meet  their  father,  the  mother's  sweet 
face  smiling  in  the  background.    '^Be  it  ever  so 

264 


Trustful  To-morrows 

humble  there's  no  place  like  home."  It  may  be 
two  rooms,  it  may  be  a  log  cabin,  it  may  be  a 
sumptuous  mansion ;  the  accident  of  broad  acres 
or  a  tiny  back  yard,  of  splendor  or  of  poverty, 
does  not  affect  the  home.  That  is  made  by  the 
dwellers  under  the  roof ;  by  the  love,  the  gentle- 
ness, the  sweet  converse,  the  common  aims  and 
interests  of  the  family.  Bless  God  for  home 
and  a  loving  greeting  may  well  be  our  constant 
prayer. 

In  every  city  there  are  a  great  multitude  of 
homeless  persons,  not  tramps,  nor  beggars,  but 
young  men  who  pay  for  board  and  lodging,  spin- 
sters who  have  no  one  closely  belonging  to  them, 
units  who  stand  alone,  solitary  who  are  not  in 
families.  The  church,  the  Sunday  school,  in  the 
great  Methodist  household  of  faith  the  Epworth 
League,  in  other  denominations  the  Christian 
Endeavor  Society,  or  perhaps  some  beneficent 
brotherhood  or  guild,  tries  to  give  these  lonely 
ones  the  substitute  for  home.  The  Young  Men's 
and  Young  Women's  Christian  Associations 
wisely  and  bravely  do  what  they  can.  But  every 
single  Christian  home  should  at  times  open  its 
doors  to  the  unhomed,  asking  them  to  the  fire- 
side and  the  board,  bringing  them  into  the 
265 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

charmed  circle,  and  thus  arming  them  against 
temptation,  and  providing  them  with  a  share  in 
the  home's  blessings. 

Another  mercy  is  opportunity.  Be  it  of  what 
order  it  may  it  is  one  of  God's  greatest  gifts. 
None  are  without  it.  Some  have  it  offered  in 
larger  measure  than  others.  Whatever  the  op- 
portunity may  be  it  is  God's  open  door  for  you 
into  which  you  may  enter;  so  count  it  among 
your  blessings. 

Still  another  source  of  joy  in  life  comes  to 
us  in  our  children,  in  our  watching  their  de- 
velopment, in  our  hope  for  their  future.  And 
our  kindred  beyond  the  immediate  household, 
our  friends,  our  neighbors — ^we  cannot  omit 
them  from  any  enumeration  of  our  blessings. 

Perhaps  we  do  not  often  stop  to  count  our 
church  privileges  as  among  our  closest  Joys  and 
our  greatest  occasions  for  gratitude.  Back  of 
our  place  in  the  world's  arena  is  the  closet  into 
which  we  retreat  for  strength,  and  our  closet  is 
our  Holy  of  Holies ;  but  there  is  the  little  prayer- 
circle,  and  the  larger  prayer-meeting,  and  the 
assembly  of  God's  people,  and  the  word  spoken 
by  the  preacher — all  as  the  wind  in  the  sails  that 

sends  the  vessel  onward.    There  are  the  summer 
266 


Teustful  To-moebows 

gatherings  of  the  saints  yearning  for  a  deeper 
spiritual  life;  there  are  the  meetings  in  the  win- 
ter when  we  pray  unitedly  for  revival,  and  lo ! 
fi-om  the  heart  of  heaven  comes  the  kindling 
flame  and  our  souls  are  burned  free  from  their 
worldly  dross  and  seven  times  refined.  In  sad 
case  is  that  Christian  disciple,  in  woeful  ease 
that  Christian  congregation,  that  has  no  desire 
to  be  revived  and  seeks  not  the  fanning  and  the 
winnowing  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

To  leave  out  of  our  list  of  blessings  the  daily 
strife  with  untoward  events,  the  daily  pressure 
of  the  uncongenial,  would  be  to  doubt  God's  wis- 
dom and  goodness.  "Who  art  thou,"  says  Car- 
lyle,  "that  complainest  of  thy  life  of  toil  ?  Com- 
plain not.  Complain  not.  Look  up,  my  wearied 
brother,  see  thy  fellow  Workmen  there,  in  God's 
Eternity ;  surviving  there,  they  alone  surviving : 
sacred  Band  of  the  Immortals,  celestial  Body- 
guard of  the  Empire  of  Mankind.  ...  To 
thee.  Heaven,  though  severe,  is  not  unkind. 
Heaven  is  kind^ — as  a  noble  mother;  as  that 
Spartan  mother,  saying,  while  she  gave  her  son 
his  shield,  'With  it,  my  son,  or  upon  it !'  Thou 
too  shalt  return  home  in  honor — ^to  thy  far- 
distant  home  in  honor ;  doubt  it  not — if  in  the 
267 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

battle  thou  keep  thy  shield.  .  .  .  Complain 
not  r 

This  strikes  a  high  note.  A  higher  yet  they 
strike  who  not  only  refrain  from  complaint  but 
accept  with  thankfulness  and  glad  acquiescence 
in  the  blessed  will  of  God  every  single  incident, 
every  single  companion,  every  single  experience 
which  God  sends  on  the  journey ;  counting  each 
in  its  degree  a  blessing. 

Says  Faber,  and  we  can  never  quote  him  too 
often : 

"My  heart  swells  within  me  in  thankfulest  joy 
For  the  faith  ^'hich  to  me  thou  hast  given ; 

For  in  all  thine  amazing  abundance  of  gifts 
Thou  hast  no  better  gift  short  of  heaven. 

"There  was  darkness  in  Egypt  while  Israel  had  sun, 
And  the  songs  in  the  cornfields  of  Goshen  were  gay ; 

And  the  chosen  that  dwelt  'mid  the  heathen  moved  on 
Each  threading  the  gloom  with  his  own  private  day. 

"Ah  !  so  is  it  now  with  the  church  of  thy  choice  ; 

Her  lands  lie  in  light  which  to  worldlings  seems  dim  ; 
And  each  child  of  that  church  who  must  live  in  dark 
realms 

Has  a  sun  o'er  his  head  which  is  only  for  him." 

Among  our  daily  blessings  should  we  not 

dwell  lovingly  upon  every  little  bit  of  work 

which  we  are  permitted  to  do  for  our  Lord? 

On  this  busy  Mondav,  when  the  housewife  has 
"  268 


Trustful  To-morrows 

her  somewhat  unusual  burdens,  she  may  drop  a 
word  to  the  maid  in  the  kitchen  which  may 
brighten  the  day  for  the  maid.  The  lady  going 
about  her  shopping  may  invite  the  saleswoman 
behind  the  counter  to  attend  a  gospel  meeting 
in  the  evening;  may  promise  to  be  there  herself 
with  a  sisterly  welcome.  To  each  of  us,  not  alone 
to  the  ministers  ordained  and  set  apart,  but  to 
each  of  us  who  has  joined  the  company  of  the 
Master  is  a  ministry  of  grace  appointed;  and 
it  is  our  crown  of  rejoicing  that  we  may  find 
the  place  for  it  wherever  we  go.  It  may  be  at 
home,  it  may  be  on  a  journey,  it  may  be  on  the 
steamer  crossing  the  ocean,  it  may  be  in  the  con- 
veyance, car  or  boat,  which  takes  one  from  house 
to  office,  it  may  be  on  the  farm — wherever  you 
are,  and  Christ  is,  and  there  is  a  third  person  yet 
to  be  brought  to  Christ — ^there  is  a  blessed  op- 
portunity for  service. 

Best  and  dearest  blessing  of  all  is  ours  when 
we  can  comprehend  even  a  little  of  the  great  love 
of  our  Lord,  and  for  a  little  time  lose  ourselves 
in  adoration  of  him. 

"When  Jesus  went  from  Bethany 

Joy  bloomed  before  him  like  the  May. 

The  beauty  and  the  mystery 

Of  something  heavenly  brimmed  the  day." 
269 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

When  Jesus  comes  to  any  earthly  home  the  light 
as  of  the  Father's  face  enters  there  and  abides. 
When  Jesus  goes  forth  the  light  remains,  for  the 
beloved  goes  forth  too,  and  walks  with  the  Mas- 
ter all  the  day  long,  and  at  night  the  Master 
returns  and  sups  with  his  disciple.    Who  shall 

measure  such  divine  blessedness  ? 
270 


Teustpul  To-moeeows 


CHAPTEE  XXYIII 
Looking  uistto  Jesus 

Theee  axe  many  roads  to  the  house  of  good 
cheer — roads  of  congenial  associations,  of  pleas- 
ant employments,  of  joy  in  attainments,  and  of 
happy  endeavors.  But  the  road  which  is 
Btraightest  and  surest  is  the  road  at  the  entrance 
of  which  is  inscribed  "Looking  unto  Jesus." 
They  who  look  unto  their  Lord  as  the  flower 
turns  to  the  sun  cannot  lose  the  way  to  ease  of 
mind  and  hope  of  heart,  to  cheerful  to-days  and 
trustful  to-morrows.  Safe  with  Jesus  is  their 
past,  serene  in  Jesus  is  their  present,  secure  in 
Jesus  is  their  future.  Forever,  thus  looking 
and  waiting,  they  renew  their  strength.  They 
may  be  old,  they  may  be  suffering,  they  may  be 
in  prison,  they  may  be  nigh  unto  death,  but 
conditions  matter  not;  the  disciples,  looking 
unto  Jesus,  see  his  face  smiling  on  them  and 
nothing  can  detract  from  their  courage. 

"Jesus,  my  Love,  my  chief  deligbt, 
For  thee  I  long,  for  thee  I  pray, 

Amid  the  shadows  of  the  night. 
Amid  the  burdens  of  the  day." 
271 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

Eapt  in  the  ecstasy  of  adoration,  what  trial  or 
trouble  can  ■weigh  the  Christian  down  ?  Do  we 
look  unto  Jesus  in  worship,  as  we  ought?  Is 
our  earliest  waking  thought  of  his  goodness  and 
his  beaut}'?  Do  we  dwell  on  his  grace,  remem- 
bering him  as  the  chiefest  among  ten  thousand 
and  altogether  lovely?  It  was  said  of  Eobert 
McCheyne,  of  Dundee,  Scotland,  that  he  so  com- 
muned with  Jesus  that  his  praj^ers  and  his  ser- 
mons dripped  with  the  perfume  of  his  love,  and 
that  he  so  enjoyed  that  love-letter  of  the  Old 
Testament,  the  Song  of  Solomon,  that  he  had 
found  texts  for  discourses  in  its  every  chapter. 

Ah,  friends,  our  heart's  longing,  our  heart's 
cry  should  be  for  Jesus,  so  that  our  looking  unto 
him  might  be  always  in  worshipful  adoration. 

"My  soul  amid  this  stormy  world 

Is  like  some  fluttered  dove, 
And  fain  would  be  as  swift  of  wing 

To  flee  tD  him  I  love." 

Our  looking  unto  Jesus  too  must  be  that  we 
may  receive  his  orders  and  be  quick  to  obey 
them.  To  one  who  saw  him  through  the  rifted 
skies,  one  arrested  on  his  way  to  commit  a  great 
crime  against  the  saints,  Christ  revealed  him- 
self in  a  glimpse  of  fire,  and  from  that  moment 
272 


Trustful  To-moerows 

Paul's  looking  was  merged  in  an  earnest,  rever- 
ent petition :  "Lord,  what  wilt  thou  have  me  to 
do  ?"  We  know  how  delightful  is  the  home  life 
where  each  wills  to  do  the  other's  will,  and  God's 
will  is  triumphant  over  all.  Any  life  which 
looks  up  constantly  to  Christ,  in  entire  submis- 
sion and  joyful  desire  to  hear  and  obey,  must  be 
full  of  cheer,  and  equally  so  must  any  home  thus 
keyed  to  perfect  harmony  be  a  place  of  blessed- 
ness. 

We  need  to  examine  ourselves  to  discover 
whether  we  are  making  any  reservation  in  our 
yielding  to  the  will  of  the  Master.  We  are  some- 
times reluctant  to  engage  in  a  plain  duty  because 
our  taking  part  in  it  will  render  us  conspicuous, 
or  lest  we  shall  be  charged  with  inconsistency  by 
those  whom  we  meet.  Looking  unto  Jesus,  there 
should  be  no  withholding  of  anything  we  have, 
no  withdrawal  of  anything  we  are,  when  our 
Captain  bids  us  advance;  there  should  be  no 
regretting  thought  or  fretfulness  when  he  tells 
us  to  stay  where  we  are  and  be  for  a  time  inac- 
tive. There  are  those  whom  he  seems  to  lay  for 
a  while  on  the  shelf ;  if  this  be  his  will,  we  must 
find  our  joy  and  our  reward  in  thus  awaiting  his 

pleasure. 

273 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

We  may  look  unto  Jesus  from  the  desk,  from 
the  army  post,  from  the  tent,  from  the  anvil. 
Surely  our  looking  should  be  so  evident  that 
those  around  us  will  recognize  us  for  children 
of  the  King.  "I  sat  by  a  man  for  ten  years," 
said  one,  "we  did  our  work  side  by  side,  but  I 
never  dreamed  that  he  was  a  Christian."  The 
man  may  have  had  a  similar  absence  of  impres- 
Bion  concerning  the  speaker. 

In  politics  men  are  not  slow  to  show  the  side 
they  take.  Why  should  they  be  less  awake  to  the 
need  of  showing  their  colors  when  their  relation 
to  Christ  is  involved;  in  speech  or  in  silence, 
shall  not  the  truly  earnest  and  sincere  man  find 
out  a  way  to  show  where  he  stands  ? 

Looking  unto  Jesus  will  keep  us  from  being 
difficult  to  live  with.  Good  people  not  a  few 
are  over  sensitive,  are  easily  hurt,  are  irritable 
about  trifles.  The  remedy  for  the  fretfulness 
which  so  often  degenerates  into  morbidness  is 
found  in  continual  looking  unto  Jesus. 

In  a  partnership  of  complete  affection  the 

subconscious  habit  is  one  of  resting  upon  and 

referring  to  the  ceaseless  love  which  each  heart 

feels  sure  of ;  it  is  not  with  effort  or  with  study 

that  husband  turns  to  wife  or  wife  to  husband 
274 


Tedstfdl  To-morhows 

in  the  sweet  intercourse  of  daily  life  and  love. 
There  is  no  jarring  note,  the  melody  is  un- 
broken. 

Our  Lord  himself  has  compared  to  marriage, 
the  closest  of  earthly  friendships,  the  bond 
which  unites  his  church  to  him.  The  looking 
imto  him  of  the  Christian  may  become  auto- 
matic, like  breathing;  it  may  never  be  inter- 
rupted; it  may  lift  every  day  and  hour  into  a 
inystic  loveliness,  such  as  floods  the  sunset  sky 
when  the  gold  and  amber  and  opal  of  the  West- 
ern horizon  surpass  in  splendor  the  colors  ever 
seen  on  any  palette  under  the  heavens  them- 
selves. 

"Who  shall  separate  us  from  the  love  of 
Christ?"  They  who  know  its  inner  sweetness, 
its  strength,  and  its  amazing  tenderness,  know 
that,  whatever  else  breaks,  that  cable  will  hold 
forever. 

"O  Jesus,  Jesus,  dearest  Lord, 

Forgive  me  if  I  say, 
For  very  love,  thy  sacred  name 

A  thousand  times  a  day. 

"For  thou  to  me  art  all  in  all. 

My  honor  and  my  wealth. 
My  heart's  desire,  my  body's  strength. 

My  soul's  eternal  health. 
275 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

•'Burn,  burn,  O  Love !  within  my  heart. 

Burn  fiercely  night  and  day, 
Till  all  the  dross  o£  earthly  loves 

Is  burned  and  burned  away. 

"O  Jesus!  Jesus!  sweetest  Lord, 

What  art  Thou  not  to  me? 
Each  hour  brings  joy  before  unknown; 

Each  day  new  liberty." 
276 


Trustful  To-morrows 


CHAPTER  XXIX 
The  Sunny  Heart 

We  have  many  gray  days  in  our  winters,  but 
on  the  whole  the  days  of  clearest  sunshine  far 
outnumber  them.  I  heard  a  dear  woman  thank 
God  the  other  day  for  having  sent  a  bright 
afternoon  for  a  meeting,  and  I  thought  how 
right  that  was,  and  how  often  we  omitted  to 
praise  him  for  good  weather.  With  the  shep- 
herd of  Salisbury  Plain,  we  ought  to  be  grate- 
ful for  whatever  weather  comes,  and  when  we 
reach  that  point  of  acquiescent  praise  we  shall 
have  sunny  skies  in  the  soul. 

"Do  you  find  it  possible,"  said  my  friend 
Eleanora,  "to  be  anything  but  perfunctory  in 
your  keeping  of  Thanksgiving?  What  does  it 
amount  to  in  your  life  ?"  This  was  just  before 
a  Thanksgiving  Day. 

"I  hope,  dear,"  I  answered,  "that  I  am  mak- 
ing every  day  a  day  of  giving  thanks.  I  am 
sometimes  overwhelmed  when  I  begin  to  count 
up  my  mercies ;  they  are  so  many,  for  the  bright 

days  so  far  exceed  the  dark  ones,  that  I  cannot 
19  277 


Cheeeful  To-days  Am) 

help  having  a  song  in  my  heart  all  the  time. 
But  when  Thanksgiving  Day  returns  it  always 
brings  its  own  proper  observance  with  it — that 
is,  if  one  is  patriotic ;  and,  too,  if  one  believes  in 
God." 

Eleanora  mused  awhile.  "I'm  not  sure  that 
I  am  patriotic,"  she  said.  "I  want  those  poor 
men  of  ours  to  come  home  safely  from  the 
Philippines,  and  I  want  peace  to  prevail  on 
land  and  sea,  and  I  don't  wish  to  see  the  rich  so 
very  rich  nor  the  poor  so  very  poor,  and  I'm 
sure  that  saloons  are  rampageous,  and  that  the 
Sabbath  is  profaned,  and — for  me — the  times 
are  out  of  joint.    J^o,  I  am  not  really  thankful." 

"I  suppose  we  may  all  find  points  to  criti- 
cise in  the  management  of  public  affairs,  and 
features  in  our  social  economy  to  regret ;  but  we 
have  not  the  responsibility  of  ordering  nor  of 
carrying  on  the  routine  of  this  great  nation, 
and  therefore  it  is  not  worth  while  for  us  to  be 
pessimistic  or  fault-finding.  And  just  at  this 
moment  people  are  striving  earnestly  to  put 
down  intemperance,  and,  as  never  before,  busi- 
ness is  making  a  strong  fight  against  it.  A 
drinking  man  cannot  hold  a  place  on  a  railroad, 

nor  in  a  factory,  nor  anywhere  in  which  his 
278 


Teustful  To-morkows 

habit  of  life  can  endanger  other  people's  lives 
or  menace  valuable  property.  This  one  fact, 
if  there  were  no  other,  is  a  mighty  weapon  of 
attack  upon  the  saloon. 

"The  remedy  for  our  violation  of  the  Sabbath 
will  be  found  in  a  deepening  of  the  spiritual 
life  of  individuals  and  in  a  quickening  of  the 
personal  conscience.  There  is  at  the  moment  a 
wide  spreading  effort  for  revival,  and  all  over 
our  country,  in  groups  and  prayer  circles  and 
meetings.  Christians  are  seeking  the  presence 
and  power  of  the  Lord-  Once  the  Holy  Spirit 
descends  again  in  the  church  there  will  be  a 
toning  up  of  public  sentiment  on  the  Sabbath 
question  and  the  world  will  respect  the  wish 
and  follow  the  lead  of  God's  people  about  ob- 
serving God's  day.  I  think  we  should  thank 
God  especially,  this  year,  for  the  signs  of  prom- 
ise in  the  sky." 

This  was  a  very  long  speech,  and  Eleanora  rose 

when  I  had  finished  it,  took  her  leave  and  went 

away.    I  was  doubtful  whether  my  monologue 

had  done  her  any  good.    It  at  least  set  me  to 

thinking  quite  seriously,  and  I  began  to  go  over 

in  my  own  mind  certain  reasons  for  being  very 

thankful  in  this  good  year  of  our  Lord. 
279 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

Among  positive  occasions  for  gratitude  at 
present  our  magnificent  harvests  come  easily 
first.  Never  has  there  been  a  more  tremendous 
yield  of  wheat  and  corn  to  reward  the  farmer. 
America  may  feed  the  world  from  her  gran- 
aries if  she  choose.  Our  vineyards  have  been 
purple  and  black  and  white  and  ruby  and  am- 
ber with  grapes  which  have  been  refreshing  to 
the  palate  and  beautiful  to  the  eye.  The  vines 
have  been  weighted  with  the  luscious  store,  the 
clusters  have  been  exquisite.  Nature  has  sur- 
passed herself,  and  in  lavish  bounty  has  spread 
every  board.  Think  of  her  oats,  her  rye,  her 
pears,  her  cherries,  her  plums.  And  as  for 
apples,  in  their  choice  varieties,  in  their  fra- 
grant ripeness,  in  their  splendid  colorings  and 
multitudinous  array  the  year  has  been  one  of 
exceeding  wealth.  Seek-no-furthers,  Baldwins, 
pippins,  greenings — their  names  are  on  the 
orchard  catalogue  and  their  golden  or  ruby 
globes  are  in  our  bins  and  cellars.  What  would 
the  housekeeper  do  without  apples?  What 
would  the  country  boy  do  if  he  had  no  apples 
for  his  school  luncheon  or  his  evening  feast? 
Pies,  and  preserves  and  jellies,  and  many  a 

toothsome  puff  and  pudding  owe  their  sweet- 
280 


Trustful  To-morrows 

ness  to  the  apple,  and  1899  wears  as  one  of  its 
peculiar  jewels  the  glory  of  being  an  apple  year. 
For  fruit  of  the  tree,  of  the  bush,  and  the  vine, 
let  us  give  thanks. 

Looking  over  the  last  twelve  months  accidents 
and  horrors  and  calamities  have  been  compara- 
tively few,  and  dreadful  crimes  have  been  less 
frequent  than  usual.  Also  labor  and  capital 
seem  better  to  have  understood  one  another  and 
the  friction  between  them  has  been  minimized. 
Taking  it  all  in  all,  we  have  passed  through  a 
year  of  great  internal  tranquillity,  of  much 
general  prosperity,  and  of  notably  good  times. 
Shall  we  not  therefore  thank  God  and  take 
courage?  The  Lord  who  has  brought  us  thus 
far  on  our  way  will  surely  carry  us  through. 

When  we  come  to  the  reckoning  of  personal 
reasons  for  thanksgiving  every  heart  and  every 
home  must  keep  tally  of  its  own  delights.  For 
health  and  strength,  for  the  dear  one's  conva- 
lescence, for  the  pleasant  outing,  for  the  happy 
times  among  ourselves,  for  the  new  baby,  for 
the  lengthened  life  of  honored  old  people,  for 
the  success  of  the  son  at  college  or  in  business, 
for  our  ships  that  have  come  safe  home  from 

long  and  perilous  voyages  on  the  tempestuous 
281 


Cheebfdl  To-days  and 

sea,  for  our  neighbors  and  friends,  we  ninst 
praise  and  thank  the  good  Lord. 

For  any  new  sight  of  the  Master's  face 
vouchsafed  to  us  in  the  retirement  of  the  closet, 
for  help  and  stimidus  which  have  come  to  us 
when  we  have  read  our  Bible  or  heard  a  sermon, 
for  any  song  in  the  night,  we  should  not  fail  to 
render  our  thanks.  In  a  world  full  of  unknown 
possibilities,  we  are  like  children  rocked  in  the 
cradle  and  crooned  over  by  the  mother,  so  good 
is  our  Lord  to  us  every  hour. 

We  may  have  some  negative  reasons  for 
thanksgiving  too;  in  that  things  have  been  no 
worse:  always  a  legitimate  cause  for  praise. 
That  we  have  had  no  Dreyfus  case  to  shame  lis 
in  this  nation  must  be  enumerated  among  our 
reasons  for  grateful  memory.  We  who  have 
small  boys  may  be  glad  that  they  are  not  of tener 
brought  home  to  us  maimed  from  the  football 
field,  and  thankful  that  most  of  their  wounds 
are  so  soon  and  so  easily  healed. 

In  all  seriousness,  friends,  should  we  not  take 
pains  to  cultivate  a  continual  habit  of  thank- 
fulness? This  would  help  to  make  ns  opti- 
mistic ;  we  should  not  go  about  with  long  faces 

nor  look  too  much  on  the  dark  side.    The  good 

282 


Trustful  To-morrows 

hand  of  our  God  is  upon  ns,  saving  ns  from 
dangers  seen  and  unseen;  let  us  therefore  take 
the  cup  of  thanksgiving  and  call  upon  his  name. 

Our  prayers  are  too  often  narrowed  down  to 
a  mere  asking  for  what  we  want,  a  mere  peti- 
tioning for  favors  at  the  throne.  The  soul  rises 
into  a  purer  ether  and  knows  a  dearer  joy  when 
prayer  is  largely  composed  of  gratitude,  when 
we  are  lifted  up  in  contemplation  to  heights  of 
a  divine  and  restful  calm. 

A  good  exercise  for  yon  and  for  me  just  novr 
might  be  with  pencil  and  paper  to  set  down, 
in  orderly  sequence,  where  we  can  plainly  see 
them,  our  private  reasons  for  being  thankful 
to  an  overruling  Providence.  Then  when 
Thanksgiving  Day  dawns  let  us  go  to  church  in 
the  good  old  way  to  acknowledge  national  bless- 
ings, mercies  to  the  commonwealth. 

Our  dinner  table  will  be  happiest  if  we  gather 

about  it  the  whole  clan,  our  kith  and  kin,  from 

the  silver-haired  grandsire  to  the  baby  in  the 

high  chair,  and  the  viands  will  taste  the  sweeter 

if  we  have  sent  a  portion  to  the  widow  around 

the  comer,  to  the  ragged  little  newsboy,  to  the 

out-at-elbows  tramp  tempted  for  once  by  fire 

and  food  to  enter  a  beneficent  mission.    Do  not 
283 


Cheekful  To-days  and 

let  us  forget  the  college  settlement,  nor  the  in- 
dustrial homes,  the  orphanage,  nor  any  other 
charity  on  Thanksgiving  Day.  Even  the  pris- 
oner behind  the  barred  gates  and  stone  walls 
should  on  this  day  have  a  gleam  of  friendly 
sympathy  and  loving  charity  thrown  across  his 
hard  and  bitter  pathway. 

If  possible,  let  the  home  gathering  be  very 
complete  when  the  Thanksgiving  gala  day  re- 
turns. This  is  an  American  custom  which 
should  not  fall  into  desuetude. 

Good  Dr.  Cuyler,  writing  of  Christian  ex- 
perience, exclaims: 

"In  the  deptlis  of  a  devout,  loyal,  praying  and 

trustful  heart  Christ  kindles  a  glow  that  cannot 

be  drowned  by  pains  of  sickness,  or  storms  of 

adversity,  or  even  by  the  tears  of  bereavement. 

One  of  the  most  sunny  Christians  I  ever  knew 

was  racked  with  the  tortures  of  a  rheumatism 

that  had  distorted  every  limb.    In  the  darkest 

hours  Jesus  can  give  triumphant  'songs  in  the 

night.'    When  Dr.  Horace  Bushnell  was  writing 

a  letter  of  consolation  to  a  brother  who  had  met 

with  a  severe  bereavement  he  said,  *Soften  your 

grief  by  much  thanksgiving*     Gratitude  for 

what  Jesus  has  done  for  us  sinners,  for  what  he 
284 


Trustful  To-moeeows 

gives  us  every  day,  for  what  he  has  laid  up  in 
store  for  us  in  heaven,  and  for  the  solid  assur- 
ance that  we  shall  meet  our  loved  ones  there^ 
such  gratitude  can  pour  its  rays  into  our  hearts 
and  put  a  new  song  into  our  mouths. 

"Is  it  possible  for  all  of  us  who  claim  to  be 
Christ's  followers  to  live  steadily  in  the  bright 
sunshine  of  Christ's  love  ?  It  must  be  possible ; 
for  the  Master  never  bids  us  do  what  we  cannot 
perform  or  be  what  we  cannot  become.  Sinless 
perfection  may  not  be  attainable  in  this  world, 
or  imalloyed  happiness.  But  there  is  one  thing 
which  all  of  Christ's  redeemed  people  can  do, 
and  that  is  to  keep  themselves  in  the  atmosphere 
of  his  love.  'Abide  ye  in  my  love.'  It  is  our 
fault  and  our  shame  that  we  spend  so  many  days 
in  the  chilling  fogs  or  under  the  heavy  clouds 
of  unbelief,  or  in  the  bleak  atmosphere  of  con- 
formity to  the  world." 

Tauler  wrote  tersely,  by  way  of  admonition: 
"Think  not  that  God  will  always  be  caressing 
his  children,  or  shine  upon  their  head,  or  kindle 
their  hearts,  as  he  does  at  the  first.  He  does 
so  only  to  lure  us  to  himself,  as  the  falconer 
lures  the  falcon  with  its  gay  hood.    Our  Lord 

works  with  his  children  so  as  to  teach  them 
285 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

afterwards  to  work  themselves;  as  he  bade 
Moses  to  make  the  tables  of  stone  after  the 
pattern  of  the  first,  which  he  had  made  himself. 
Thus,  after  a  time,  God  allows  man  to  depend 
upon  himself,  and  no  longer  enlightens,  and 
stimulates,  and  rouses  him.  We  must  stir  up 
and  rouse  ourselves,  and  be  content  to  leave  off 
learning,  and  no  more  enjoy  feeling  and  fire, 
and  must  now  serve  the  Lord  with  strenuous 
industry  and  at  our  own  cost.  Our  Lord  acts 
as  a  prudent  father,  who,  while  his  children  are 
young,  lets  them  live  at  his  cost,  and  manages 
everything  for  them.  What  is  needful  for  them 
he  provides,  and  lets  them  go  and  play ;  and  so 
long  as  this  lasts  they  are  at  leisure,  free  from 
care,  happy,  and  generous  at  their  father's  ex- 
pense. Afterwards  he  gives  a  portion  of  his 
estate  into  their  own  hands,  because  he  will 
have  them  to  take  care  of  themselves  and  earn 
their  own  living,  to  leave  off  childish  play,  and 
thus  learn  how  to  grow  rich." 

We  may  at  least  refrain  from  ever  expressing 
icRssatisfaction  with  God's  dealings  and  discon- 
tent with  our  circumstances.  By  the  time  to- 
morrow reaches  us  to-day's  discomfort  will  have 
flecf.    Each  day  bears  onlv  its  own  burden,  and 

286"^ 


Tbusttul  To-morrows 

every  burden  is  bound  together  and  labeled, 
"By  the  will  of  God."  Are  we  depending  for 
our  joy,  not  on  our  earthly  environment,  but 
on  that  which  hour  by  hour  the  Lord  bestows? 
Then  shall  we  ever  despond  ?  Shall  we  not  al- 
ways wear  the  brightness  of  heaven  on  our  faces 
and  in  our  hearts  ?    Let  us  constantly  pray : 

"Drop  Thy  sweet  dews  of  quietness 

Till  all  our  strivings  cease; 
Take  from  our  souls  the  strain  and  stress 
And  let  our  ordered  lives  confess 

The  beauty  of  Thy  peace." 
287 


Cheerful  To-days  and 


CHAPTEE  XXX 
Beyond  the  Horizon's  Eim 

One  of  these  days  it  will  all  be  over. 

Sorrow  and  laughter,  loss  and  gain, 
Meetings  and  partings  of  friend  and  lover, 

Joy  that  was  often  tinged  with  pain. 
One  of  these  days  will  our  hands  be  folded. 

One  of  these  days  will  the  work  be  done. 
Finished  the  pattern  our  lives  have  molded. 

Ended  our  labor  beneath  the  sun. 

One  of  these  days  will  the  heartache  leave  us, 

One  of  these  days  will  the  burden  drop ; 
Never  again  shall  a  hope  deceive  us, 

Never  again  shall  our  progress  stop. 
Freed  from  the  blight  of  the  vain  endeavor. 

Winged  with  the  health  of  immortal  life. 
One  of  these  days  we  shall  quit  forever 

All  that  is  vexing  in  earthly  strife. 

One  of  these  days  we  shall  know  the  reason, 

Haply,  of  much  that  perplexes  now  ; 
One  of  these  days,  in  the  Lord's  good  season. 

Light  of  his  peace  shall  adorn  the  brow. 
Bless6d,  though  out  of  tribulation. 

Lifted  to  dwell  in  his  sun-bright  smile, 
Happy  to  share  the  great  salvation. 

Can  we  not  patiently  tarry  awhile? 

The  eye  which  gazes  beyond  the  horizon's 

rim  and  expects  the  hour  when  the  day  shall 

288 


Trustful  To-moerows 

break  in  the  new  life  above  may  grow  weary, 
but  it  will  not  grow  discouraged.  For  we  walk 
by  the  starlight  of  the  promises  as  well  as  by  the 
sunshine  of  daily  mercies.  We  need  never  fear. 
One  who  knows  our  infirmities  is  always  at  our 
Bide. 

The  pleasure  of  good  company  is  with  us,  too, 
on  the  road  home.  True,  there  remaineth  much 
land  to  be  possessed.  Millions  of  our  fellow 
beings  are  yet  in  the  darkness  of  heathenism. 

The  false  gods  are  not  yet  overthrown  nor  are 
the  idols  utterly  abolished.  But  we  may  help 
send  the  Gospel,  and  we  shall  gain  a  blessing  if 
we  do  so  in  the  spirit  of  the  little  East-end 
London  girl  who  wanted  to  do  her  share : 

It  was  only  a  silver  sixpence, 

Battered  and  worn  and  old. 
But  worth  to  the  child  that  held  it 

As  much  as  a  piece  of  gold. 

A  poor  little  crossing-sweeper, 

In  the  wind  and  rain  all  day — 
For  one  who  gave  her  a  penny 

There  were  twenty  who  bade  her  nay. 

But  sh«  carried  the  bit  of  silver — 

A  light  in  her  steady  face. 
And  her  step  on  the  crowded  pavement 

Full  of  a  childish  grace — 
289 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

Straight  to  the  tender  pastor ; 

And  '"Send  it,"  she  said,  "for  me. 
Dear  sir,  to  the  heathen  children 

On  the  other  side  of  the  sea. 

"Let  it  help  in  telling  the  story 
Of  the  love  of  the  Lord  most  high. 

Who  came  from  the  world  of  glory 
For  a  sinful  woi'ld  to  die." 

"Send  only  half  of  it,  Maggie," 

The  good  old  minister  said, 
"And  keep  the  rest  for  yourself,  dear ; 

You  need  it  for  daily  bread." 

"Ah,  sir,"  was  the  ready  answer. 

In  the  blessed  Bible  words, 
"I  would  rather  lend  it  to  Jesus : 

For  the  silver  and  gold  are  the  Lord's, 

"And  the  copper  will  do  for  Maggie." 

I  think,  if  we  all  felt  so. 
The  wonderful  message  of  pardon 

Would  soon  through  the  dark  earth  go. 

Soon  should  the  distant  mountains 

And  the  far-off  isles  of  the  sea 
Hear  of  the  great  salvation 
.And  the  truth  that  makes  men  free. 

Alas !  do  we  not  too  often 

Keep  our  silver  and  gold  in  store. 

And  grudgingly  part  with  our  copi)er. 
Counting  the  pennies  o'er, 

And  claiming  in  vain  the  blessing. 
That  the  Master  gave  to  one 

Who  dropped  her  mites  as  the  treasure 
A  whole  day's  toil  had  won? 
290 


Teustful  To-moerows 

A  toil-worn  returned  missionary  was  address- 
ing a  group  of  women  the  other  day,  and  she 
said,  with  the  sound  of  tears  in  her  voice,  "Oh, 
you  would  love  to  help  the  Lord's  work  on  if 
you  Icnew  about  it."  The  trouble  too  often  is, 
friends,  that  we  do  not  know.  We  look  at  our 
own  garden  gate,  not  at  the  rim  of  the  sky 
where  disappears  the  ship  which  bears  along  the 
foreign  missionaries  going  on  their  errands  of 
love.  JSTot  all  of  us  are  to  blame  for  this  indif- 
ference. Our  city  households  do,  some  of  them 
at  least,  keep  in  touch  with  Ceylon,  India, 
China,  and  our  workers  there.  Very  frequently 
one  discovers  in  country  homes,  remote  from 
the  railroad,  a  great  deal  of  good  periodical 
literature.  Especially  are  some  of  these  house- 
holds well  informed  as  to  foreign  and  home 
missions.  Inquiring  of  a  busy  house  mistress, 
whose  home  had  been  filled  with  summer 
boarders  from  June  until  September,  when  she 
found  time  to  read  all  her  books  and  magazines, 
the  answer  came  promptly,  "I  read  up  in  the 
long  winter  evenings.  My  family  is  small  then, 
and  I  have  plenty  of  time ;  I  just  save  every- 
thing till  then,  and  I  go  through  my  pile  from 

first  to  last."     Certainly  there  is  no  lack  either 
291 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

of  interest  or  of  information  in  and  about  the 
Lord's  work  on  the  part  of  these  busy,  hard- 
working, but  most  intelligent  women. 

It  is  by  reading  and  by  attending  meetings  of 
prayer  for  missions  that  we  get  to  know  about 
and  to  love  them  and  their  various  phases  of 
effort.  There  are  the  preaching,  the  visiting, 
the  teaching,  the  translating,  the  comforting 
ministrations  to  mind  and  body,  which  compose 
the  several  sorts  of  work  at  a  mission  station. 
Are  we  praying  for  all,  aiding  all,  giving  to  all  ? 
Some  days  are  brighter  to  us  than  others  be- 
cause we  may  say  at  nightfall, 
God  gave  me  something  very  sweet  to  be  mine  own 

this  day — 
A  precious  opportunity  a  word  for  Christ  to  say  ; 
A  soul  that  my  desire  might  reach ;  a  work  to  do  for 

him ; 
And  now  I  thank  him  for  this  grace,  ere  yet  the  light 

grows  dim. 
No  service  that  he  sends  me  on  can  be  so  welcome  aye : 
To  guide  a   pilgrim's  weary  feet  within  the   narrow 

way; 
To  share  the  loving  Shepherd's  quest,  and  so,  by  brake 

and  fen. 
To  find  for  him  his  wandering  lambs,  the  erring  sons 

of  men. 
I  did  not  seek  this  blessed  thing;  it  came  a  rare  sur- 
prise, 
Flooding  my  heart  with  dearest  joy,  as,  lifting  wistful 
eyes, 

292 


Trustful  To-moerows 

Heaven's  light  upon  a  dear  one's  face  shone  plain  and 

clear  on  mine ; 
And  there  an  unseen  third,  I  felt,' was  waiting — One 

divine. 

So  in  this  twilight  hour  I  kneel,  and  pour  my  grateful 

thought 
In  song  and  praj'er  to  Jesus  for  the  gifts  this  day  hath 

brought. 
Sure  never  service  is  so  sweet,  nor  life  hath  so  much 

zest, 
As  when  he  bids  me  speak  for  him,  and  then  he  does 

the  rest. 


I  may  be  mistaken,  but  as  I  have  gone  about 
the  world  it  has  seemed  to  me  that  the  happiest 
and  most  gracious  family  life  has  existed  where 
the  family  looked  ever  beyond  the  horizon's  rim, 
and  lived  as  united  by  a  common  bond  in  Christ. 
We  cannot  but  be  sweet  and  gentle  if  we  are  imi- 
tators of  him  who  "pleased  not  himself."  We 
cannot  but  be  happy  if  we  have  a  common  aim, 
a  .common  interest,  higher  than  mere  worldli- 
ness  and  money  making,  and  the  habit  of  con- 
stant reference  of  every  little  and  large  thing  to 
the  Lord  as  the  arbiter  of  our  lives ;  yet,  gazing 
heavenward,  we  are  for  the  present  held  fast  by 
cords  of  might  to  the  earth  wherein  we  dwell, 
and  it  is  worth  our  while  to  consider  our  ways 

in  the  household. 

20  293 


Chberpul  To-days  and 

Our  maimers  in  the  family  are  very  apt  to  be 
the  sincere  expressions,  as  they  are  the  nneon- 
scions  revelations,  of  our  prevailing  and  dom- 
inant states  of  mind.  Character  is  indicated 
by  the  tricks  of  speech  and  of  gesture,  the  tones 
of  voice,  the  politeness  or  the  rudeness  of  daily 
deportment,  and  by  a  hundred  small  things 
which  are  automatic;  things  of  which  we  take 
no  note,  perhaps  of  which  we  are  quite  unaware. 
Just  as  an  habitually  gentle  and  controlled  per- 
son has  a  quiet  and  serene  face,  and  as  a  tem- 
pestuous and  unrestrained  nature  writes  its 
record  on  the  countenance,  so  the  manners  of 
a  family  set  it  apart  as  well  bred  or  the  reverse, 
and  the  family  air  stamps  each  individual  of 
the  clan. 

Why  do  people  residing  under  the  same  roof 

gain    a    certain    resemblance?     Originally,    it 

may  be,  their  features  were  cast  in  different 

molds;  they  started  in  being  unlike,  but  time, 

and  familiarity,  and  an  incessant  process  of 

unconscious   imitation,   has   brought    about   a 

marked  similarity,  so  that  the  loving  husband 

and  wife  actually  look  alike,  with  a  subtler  and 

more  spiritual  likeness  than  the  mere  surface 

resemblance  of  kinship. 

294 


TfiUSTFUL   TO-MOEROWS 

When  the  overwrought  and  overtired  mother 
scolds  her  fractious  child,  allowing  her  fretful- 
ness  to  sharpen  her  accents  and  speaking  with 
the  stormy  emphasis  of  anger,  she  does  not 
mean  permanently  to  influence  her  little  one's 
manner,  but  she  is  doing  so  nevertheless.  The 
child  grows  querulous,  reflecting  the  nervous 
susceptibility  to  strain  which  makes  the  mother 
unamiable.  Placidity,  serenity,  a  tranquil  calm 
of  strength  and  sweetness  in  combination,  seem 
to  have  vanished  from  many  homes  wherein 
people  are  hurried  and  worried,  distraught  and 
care-laden. 

Our  manners  may  help  to  control  our  minds. 
So  subtle  is  the  connection  between  body  and 
spirit,  whenever  we  can  absolutely  require  of  the 
former  perfect  repose,  the  repression  of  im- 
patient movements  and  of  irritated  speech,  the 
spirit  gains  time  to  conquer  itself  and  finds  its 
lost  poise.  To  go  alone,  sit  perfectly  still  and 
refuse  to  allow  even  so  much  as  a  frown  or  a 
pucker  upon  one's  face,  to  do  this  when  circum- 
stances are  peculiarly  trying  or  when  one  is 
aware  that  weariness  will  presently  degenerate 
to  crossness,  may  save  one  from  a  humiliating 

outbreak,  and  add  permanently  to  the  stock  of 
295 


Cheeeful  To-days  and 

self-control  which  we  all  need  as  capital  for 
life. 

Family  manners,  apart  from  the  relations  of 
parents  and  children,  which  imply  a  reciprocal 
consideration,  are  apt  to  suffer  from  too  much 
candor.  We  speak  with  great  plainness  in  the 
circle  of  our  own  kindred;  we  comment  too 
freely  on  foibles ;  we  express  the  contrary  opin- 
ion too  readily  and  with  too  little  courtesy.  A 
slight  infusion  of  formality  never  harms  social 
intercourse,  either  in  the  family  or  elsewhere. 

Beyond  this  too  common  mistake  of  an  over- 
bluntness  and  brusque  freedom  in  the  manners 
of  a  household,  in  some  of  our  homes  there  is  a 
greater  fault  even — a  lack  of  demonstration. 
There  is  the  deepest,  sincerest  love  in  the  home, 
the  brothers  and  sisters  would  cheerfully  die  for 
one  another  if  so  great  a  sacrifice  were  de- 
manded, but  the  love  is  ice-locked  behind  a  bar- 
rier of  reserve.  Caresses  are  infrequent,  words 
of  affection  are  seldom  spoken.  It  may  be 
urged  with  truth  and  some  show  of  reason  that 
in  the  very  homes  where  this  absence  of  demon- 
stration is  most  marked  there  is  complete 
mutual  understanding,   and  no  possibility  of 

doubt  or  misgiving,  and,  so  far  as  it  goes,  this  is 
296 


Trustful  To-morrows 

well.  But  often  young  hearts  long  unspeak- 
ably for  some  gentle  sign  of  love's  presence — 
the  lingering  touch  of  a  tender  hand  on  the 
head,  the  good-night  kiss,  the  word  of  praise, 
the  recognition  of  affection.  Older  hearts,  too, 
are  sometimes  empty,  and  many  of  us,  younger 
and  older,  are  kept  on  short  rations  all  our  lives, 
when  our  right,  on  our  Father's  road  to  our 
Father's  house,  is  to  be  fed  with  the  finest  of 
the  wheat,  and  enough  of  it;  just  as  those  who 
ate  manna  in  the  wilderness  had  always  an  en- 
tire provision,  not  a  stinted  supply. 

Another  suggestion  which  should  not  be  over- 
looked is  the  importance  of  politeness  to  the 
little  ones.  To  snub  a  small  laddie  needlessly, 
to  order  a  child  about  on  errands  here  and  there 
instead  of  civilly  preferring  a  request  as  one 
does  to  an  older  person,  in  each  case  is  an  in- 
vasion of  the  rights  of  childhood.  The  child  to 
whom  everybody  practices  politeness  will  in 
turn  be  himself  ready  to  oblige  and  agreeable 
in  manner,  for  the  stamp  of  the  family  is  as 
plainly  to  be  seen  on  us  every  one  as  the  stamp 
of  the  mint  on  the  coin,  and  it  is  as  indelible  for 
time — and  why  not,  also,  for  eternity  ? 

A  child  sometimes  slips  away  from  our  grasp 
297 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

all  in  a  moment.  The  sweet  young  daughter  of 
the  house  was  going  to  school,  week  before  last. 
Yesterday,  after  a  very  brief  illness,  she  was 
not,  for  God  had  taken  her.  The  baby  went  to 
bed  well,  but  croup  came  in  the  night  and  a 
mother's  arms  are  empty.  Oh,  the  deep  grief 
over  tiny  graves,  the  scalding  tears  that  blind  us 
when  we  look  at  vacant  chairs !  While  they  are 
with  us  let  us  do  all  we  can  to  make  our  dar- 
lings happy ;  while  they  remain  let  our  tones  be 
sweet,  our  acts  unselfish,  our  love  unstinted. 
"When  God  calls  them  let  us  have  no  remorse 
which  might  have  been  avoided,  but  let  us  not 
refuse  consolation,  for. 

They  never  quite  leave  us,  our  friends  who  have  passed 
Through  the  shadow  of  death  to  the  sunlight  above ; 
A  thousand  sweet  memories  are  holding  them  fast 
To  the  places  they  bless  with  their  presence  and  love. 

The  work  which  they  left  and  the  books  which  they 

read 
Speak  mutely,  though  still  with  an  eloquence  rare ; 
And  the  songs  that  they  sung,  and  dear  words  they 

said. 
Yet  linger  and  sigh  on  the  desolate  air. 

And  oft  when  alone,  and  as  oft  in  the  throng, 
Or  when  evil  allures  us  or  sin  draweth  nigh, 
A  whisper  comes  gently,  "Nay,  do  not  the  wrong,** 
And  we  feel  that  our  weakness  is  pitied  on  high. 
298 


Trustful  To-morkows 

In  the  dew-threaded  morn  and  the  opaline  eve, 

When  the  children  are  merry  or  crimsoned  with  sleep. 

We  are  comforted,  even  as  lonely  we  grieve. 

For  the  thoughts  of  their  rapture  forbids  us  to  weep. 

We  toil  at  our  tasks  in  the  burden  and  heat 
Of  life's  passionate  noon  :  they  are  folded  in  peace. 
It  is  well.     We  rejoice  that  their  heaven  is  sweet. 
And  one  day  for  us  will  all  bitterness  cease. 

We,  too,  will  go  home  o'er  the  river  of  rest. 
As  the  strong  and  the  lovely  before  us  have  gone ; 
Our  sun  will  go  down  in  the  beautiful  west 
To  rise  in  the' glory  that  circles  the  throne. 

Until  then  we  are  bound  by  our  love  and  our  faith 

To  the  saints  who  are  walking  in  Paradise  fair. 

They   have  passed   beyond  sight,  at   the   touching  of 

death. 
But  they  live,  like  ourselves,  in  God's  infinite  care. 


Warning 


In  the  time  of  our  fullness  and  thrift. 
Ere  the  time  of  our  loss  and  our  dole. 

Let  the  angels  who  guard  us  uplift 
A  warning  to  every  soul. 

Oh !  heed  it  and  hear  it,  lest  all  unaware 

We  waken  some  day  to  the  gloom  of  despair. 

We  shall  never  be  sorry  for  love ; 

For  the  words  that  are  patient  and  sweet ; 
For  the  hardness  repressed. 
For  the  anger  unguessed. 

For  the  grace  that  is  swift  to  entreat. 
299 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

We  shall  never  be  sorry  for  hope 
That  heartened  the  weak  and  the  tried, 

That  made  them  the  bolder  to  cope 
With  the  evil  one,  close  to  their  side ; 

For  the  pity  we've  shown 

To  the  souls  that  alone 
Were  stemming  some  fierce,  rushing  tide. 

We  shall  never  be  sorry  for  care 
To  the  old  or  the  little  ones  given ; 

Nor  ever  regret  the  swift'prayer 
That  went  to  our  Father  in  heaven 

For  meekness  and  cheer 

When  the  outlook  was  drear, 
For  faith  when  our  courage  was  riven. 

In  the  time  of  our  fullness  and  thrift, 
Ere  the  time  of  our  dole  and  our  loss. 

Let  the  angels  who  guard  us  uplift 
A  voice  against  cleaving  to  dross ; 

Let  us  hear  it  and  heed  it,  lest  all  unaware 

We  waken  some  day  to  the  gloom  of  despair. 
300 


Trustful  To-morrows 


CHAPTER  XXXI 
The  Habit  of  Holding  On 

Among  excellent  wearing  habits,  in  this  age 
of  haste  and  competition,  we  should  set  a  high 
value  on  that  of  holding  on.  Having  decided 
on  a  course  of  action,  looked  at  it  from  every 
point  of  view,  and  taken  stock  of  ourselves  and 
of  the  situation,  we  should  first  kneel  down  alone 
in  our  closets,  or  with  our  families  if  the  matter 
concern  them,  and  ask  God's  blessing.  Let  the 
errand  be  what  it  may,  the  disciple  does  not  go 
forward  without  the  Master's  assurance  that 
he  is  with  him.  Xext,  we  should  begin  with 
earnestness,  zeal,  and  discretion;  enthusiasm 
held  in  check  by  wisdom  and  knowledge.  Last, 
we  should  hold  on. 

The  world  highly  values  success,  especially 

the  success  which  is  apparent.     In  no  walk  of 

life  is  success  attainable  by  the  man  or  the 

woman  who  has  not  acquired  persistence,  the 

art  of  holding  on.     In  the  inspired  page  of 

Eevelation  the  promise  is,  over  and  over,  made 
301 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

of  reward  to  "him  that  overcometh/'  Over- 
coming is  holding  on. 

We  see  children  full  of  the  zest  of  beginning. 
The  first  chapter  of  the  new  book,  the  first  week 
at  the  new  school,  the  opening  tasks  of  the  new 
term,  fill  them  with  eager  delight.  It  is  the 
^lan  of  the  novel  enterprise  which  excites  and 
stimulates  them  to  effort.  So  in  Leagues,  and 
Endeavor  societies  of  every  variety,  there  is 
apt  to  be  great  ardor  at  the  outset.  The  testing 
time  arrives  when  the  year  has  reached  its 
middle  period,  when  the  attraction  of  novelty 
has  waned,  when  what  is  needed  is  not  an  en- 
thusiastic start,  but  steady  staying  power. 
Blessings  on  those  young  people  who  have  the 
good  habit  of  holding  on;  who  do  not  dread 
the  quiet  performance  of  obscure  duties;  who 
can  march  on  even  when  the  music  in  advance 
is  temporarily  silent. 

Our  greatest  sailors  and  soldiers,  our  most 
eminent  statesmen,  our  most  renowned  mission- 
aries, our  scholars  famed  for  research  and  ac- 
curacy, have  had  the  habit  of  holding  on. 

You  are  perhaps  very  near  the  foot  of  the 

ladder  to-day,  and  to  climb  high  will  mean  a 

struggle  full  of  pluck  and  of  dogged  determina- 
302 


Tbustful  To-moeeows 

tion.  Eemember  that  God  has  given  yon  a 
foothold,  and  that  he  now  expects  you  valiantly 
to  fight  for  yourself.  Lose  no  advantage,  never 
shirk  a  hard  task,  be  courteous,  be  obliging,  be 
unselfish;  but  through  every  opposition,  and 
even  in  the  face  of  disaster  and  disappointment, 
hold  on  in  your  way. 

It  is  a  fine  thing  to  make  defeat  your  step- 
ping stone  to  victory. 

Thare  are  failures  which  God  sends  and  God 
plans,  and  which  are  in  his  sight  far  more 
radiant  than  any  human  success.  There  are 
those  carried  wounded  to  the  rear,  or  dropped 
out  of  the  procession,  whom  God  honors  with 
his  *^ell  done,  good  and  faithful  servant!" 
But  of  these  it  may  be  said  without  hesitation 
that  they  possessed  the  habit  of  holding  on  to 
what  seemed  to  them  right ;  that  they  did  their 
duty  manfully,  and  rounded  out  their  day's 
work,  more  anxious  about  the  work  than  about 
the  wages. 

I  would  warn  those  who  would  enjoy  cheerful 

to-days  and  inherit  trustful  to-morrows  against 

being  over  solicitous  for  the  success  which  is 

estimated  in  money.     Ours  is  a  commercial  age, 

and  we  are  apt,  because  it  is  in  the  air  about  ns, 
303 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

to  admire  too  highly  the  acquisition  of  wealth. 
As  a  means  to  an  end,  and  that  end  the  service 
of  God  and  the  elevation  of  man,  wealth  is  de- 
sirable. For  all  else,  the  words  of  the  wise  man 
remain  eternally  judicious,  "Give  me  neither 
poverty  nor  riches."  The  middle  course  is  the 
happy  course.  Work  done  for  mercenary  rea- 
sons alone  is  never  the  highest  and  the  best 
work.  "Give  us  the  glory  of  going  on,"  sings 
the  poet. 

To  hold  on  as  the  scientific  student  does  in 
the  laboratory,  that  he  may  gain  knowledge 
along  lines  which  will  alleviate  suffering  and 
mitigate  disease,  to  hold  on  as  the  general  does 
when  the  campaign  is  a  long  one  and  the  odds 
are  against  him,  to  hold  on  as  the  mother  does 
through  the  years  when  her  little  ones  are  in  the 
crib  and  the  nursery,  to  hold  on  as  the  pastor 
does  in  his  quiet  round  of  loving  ministry, 
studying,  toiling,  striving,  comforting — thus  to 
hold  on  is  to  win  and  keep  the  divine  favor. 

Thus  holding  on,  we  may 

"Look  up  and  not  down ; 

Look  forward  and  not  back; 

Look  out  and  not  in ;  and 

Lend  a  hand." 
304 


Trustful  To-morrows 

Away  back  in  the  second  book  of  Chronicles 
we  are  told  of  the  good  King  Hezekiah,  that 
"he  wrought  that  which  was  good  and  right  and 
faithful  before  the  Lord  his  God.  And  in  every 
work  that  he  began  in  the  service  of  the  house  of 
God,  and  in  the  law,  and  in  the  commandments, 
to  seek  his  God,  he  did  it  with  all  his  heart,  and 
prospered." 

King  Hezekiah  had  mastered  the  art  of  hold- 
ing on. 

305 


Cheerful  To-days  and 


CHAPTER  XXXII 
One  Word  More  for  '  Our  Girls 

To  many  a  girl  the  abandonment  of  her  hope 
to  attend  college  is  the  greatest  disappointment 
of  her  young  life.  Her  mother  needs  her  at 
home,  or  her  father  thinks  she  has  had  a  suf- 
ficient amount  of  school  discipline,  or  there  is 
not  money  enough  to  make  a  college  education 
practicable — for  some  reason  or  other  the  step 
cannot  be  taken;  and  the  young  woman  is 
obliged  to  make  her  plans  along  different  lines 
from  those  which  she  had  intended.  In  the 
case  of  one  exceptionally  gifted  girl,  very  dear 
to  me  in  later  years,  her  mother's  death  throw- 
ing upon  the  brave  young  shoulders  the  care  and 
oversight  of  a  family  of  small  brothers  and  sis- 
ters made  college  impossible.  She  could  not  be 
spared  from  the  desolate  home,  where  she 
speedily  became  the  sister-mother  and  the 
homemaker  and  housekeeper. 

Another  young  woman,  prepared  for  college 

and  anxious  to  go  because  of  a  genuine  enthu- 
306 


Trustful  To-mobeows 

Biasm  for  learning,  was  compelled  at  twenty 
years  of  age  to  resign  her  ambition  lest  she 
should  use  means  which  were  required  for  the 
education  of  younger  children.  Twelve  years 
later  this  woman,  who  had  bided  her  time,  never 
complaining,  never  querulous,  invariably  pa- 
tient, cheerful  and  bright,  was  enabled  to  fulfill 
her  desire  and  she  is  in  college  now;  resolutely 
taking  up  the  old  tools  and  studying  happily 
among  her  juniors,  with  whom  she  is  a  great 
favorite.  And  no  wonder:  at  heart  she  is  as 
young  as  the  youngest. 

I  have  found  it  my  greatest  comfort,  girls,  in 
every  situation  to  say  to  myself,  "This  is  God's 
appointment  for  me,  and  it  therefore  must  be 
right."  When  we  accept  God's  will  as  best  it  is 
a  pillow  under  the  head  than  which  nothing 
could  be  softer  and  more  peaceful.  If  it  is  for 
our  advantage  to  go  or  to  stay  we  do  not  know, 
but  God  knows;  and  all  our  days  are  arranged 
for  us  according  to  his  plan. 

Supposing,  therefore,  that  college  is  out  of 
the  question,  what  hinders  a  bright,  keen-witted 
girl  from  making  the  very  best  of  her  time  aad 
talents  at  home  ?  She  may  take  up  a  Chautau- 
qua course,  or  a  course  prescribed  by  the  Ep- 
307 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

worth  League,  and  her  reading  may  be  definite 
and  systematic,  not  haphazard  and  occasional. 
She  will  see  for  herself  that  while  the  news- 
paper keeps  one  informed  as  to  current  events, 
and  well-selected  fiction  pleases  the  imagina- 
tion, yet  neither  the  newspaper  nor  the  novel 
can  alone  give  a  woman  a  cultivated  mind  or 
discipline  her  intellect.  If  she  is  wise,  and  in 
earnest,  she  will  set  herself  to  a  resolute  and 
persistent  and  thorough  study  of  some  branch 
of  science  or  some  period  of  history.  One  girl 
found  it  feasible  to  follow  her  brother's  college 
course  at  home,  and  she  took  up  in  her  own 
room,  and  without  the  spur  of  emulation  or  the 
assistance  of  a  tutor,  everything  that  he  did — 
Latin,  Greek,  French,  philosophy  and  mathe- 
matics— slighting  nothing,  and  keeping  pace 
with  him  to  the  end;  the  only  difference  then 
being  that  he  had  a  diploma  and  she  had  none. 
All  the  substantial  good  of  college  training  be- 
longed to  her  as  well  as  to  him. 

Many  girls  have  not  the  leisure  for  so  much 
consecutive  work  as  was  here  gone  over.  Do 
not  despair  on  that  account.  A  half  hour  de- 
voted to  study  every  day,  without  a  break,  will 

give  results  at  the  end  of  the  year  which  will  be 
SOS 


Trustful  To-moreows 

simply  surprising.  I  have  seen  a  young  woman 
occupied  in  a  factory  in  New  York,  toiling  early 
and  late  and  having  no  place  at  home  to  study, 
who,  availing  herself  of  the  reading  room  of  a 
working  girl's  club,  has  made  herself  familiar 
with  English  history  from  the  earliest  days  un- 
til the  Victorian  era.  Everything  against  her, 
but  courage  and  will  and  a  love  of  books  carry- 
ing her  splendidly  forward ! 

Avail  yourself  of  the  lecture  courses  open  to 
you,  near  your  home,  and  ask  your  friends  who 
have  gone  farther  than  yourself  for  a  little  en- 
lightenment when  you  reach  a  difficult  place. 
Libraries  and  books  of  reference  may  be  found 
in  most  towns ;  if  you  have  none  in  your  neigh- 
borhood your  pastor  will  probably  be  willing 
to  lend  you  books  or  to  guide  you  in  their  pur- 
chase. Little  by  little  add  to  your  stock  of 
literature,  buying  only  after  careful  thought  as 
to  whether  you  are  sure  you  need  the  book  on 
which  your  desire  has  been  fixed.  A  dictionary 
and  an  encyclopedia  are  immeasurably  valuable 
to  a  student  who  is  not  near  a  library. 

By  the  daily  practice  of  reading  good  books, 

and  by  seeking  the  friendship  of  refined  and 

intelligent  men  and  women,  you  will  gain  an 
21  309 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

appreciation  of  literature  and  of  scholarship 
quite  equal  to  that  which  your  friend  obtains 
in  her  life  of  the  school.  Do  not  suffer  yourself 
to  be  slipshod  and  careless  as  to  your  vocabulary, 
to  use  slang,  or  to  drop  into  provincialisms.  If 
is  true  that  very  well  informed  persons  do  use 
these,  but  they  do  not  belong  to  a  lady,  and  they 
are  blots  on  her  manner  of  expression — tattered 
fringe  on  an  elegant  garment.  Better  be  pre- 
cise and  pedantic  than  heedless  of  your  mother- 
tongue  and  ungrammatical  in  conversation  or 
writing.  Eemember  that  there  is  nothing  open 
to  us  so  educational  and  so  improving  on  its 
very  lowest  plane  as  regular  attendance  at  a 
place  of  worship.  Merely  always  going  to 
church  and  giving  one's  attention  fully  to  the 
preacher,  merely  dwelling  on  the  themes  he 
touches,  largely  helps  those  who  must  have  cul- 
ture but  cannot  have  college. 

But  if  one  does  go,  and  many  of  our  young 
women  are  thus  privileged,  let  her  determine  to 
be  on  the  Lord's  side  from  the  outset.  None 
of  us  can  stay  in  utter  solitude,  without  com- 
radeship, and  be  happy  or  entirely  useful.  That 
idea  of  life  which  implies  isolation  is  not  whole- 
some. It  is  worth  while  for  us  to  think  a  little 
310 


Teustful  To-moerows 

about  our  friends — what  we  do  for  them  and 
what  they  do  for  us. 

Should  an  entire  class  assembled  in  college 
for  the  first  time  be  composed  altogether  of 
strangers,  some  from  Kansas,  some  from  Ten- 
nessee, some  from  Florida,  others  from  Maine, 
still  others  from  Texas,  New  York,  Ohio  and 
Colorado,  with  a  sprinkling  of  girls  from  the 
Sandwich  Islands  and  Japan,  it  would  not  be 
long  before  the  various  young  women  would 
shake  apart  from  the  mass  and  settle  into 
groups.  These  groups  would  again  subdivide 
into  smaller  circles,  and  the  circles  would  finally 
fall  into  the  partnership  of  individuals.  The 
closer  welding  of  the  intimate  friendship  of  the 
twos  would  not  interfere  with  the  pleasant  min- 
gling of  the  threes  and  fours  and  sevens,  while 
over  all,  and  uniting  all,  would  be  the  beautiful 
and  subtle  growth  and  continuance  of  the  class 
feeling;  a  sentiment  which  survives  through 
life  and  is  one  of  life's  most  delightful  experi- 
ences. The  girl  from  Texas  might  find  eon- 
genial  qualities  and  similar  tastes  in  the  girl 
from  Maine,  and  the  soft-voiced  Kentuckian 
might  choose  for  her  dearest  confidante  a  crisp 

and  clever  young  woman  from  New  York.    In- 
311 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

evitably  each  would  modify  the  other  and  help 
the  other  on. 

This  is  one  of  the  best  offices  of  friendship — 
to  be  helpful  where  one  can.  I  never  thought 
very  highly  of  the  plan  that  friends  should 
candidly  tell  each  other  of  their  faults.  The 
office  of  critic  is  rather  ungracious,  and  very, 
very  few  persons  are  able  to  listen  without  an- 
noyance to  the  recital  of  their  defects,  as  seen 
by  even  friendly  eyes.  As  a  matter  of  course  a 
girl  expects  reproof  or  suggestion  at  times  from 
her  mother,  or  her  teacher,  but  she  does  not  care 
for  it  from  her  school  or  college  friends,  and, 
even  if  she  is  equally  candid  in  return,  the  mu- 
tual inspection  is  usually  fatal  to  affection. 
Far  better  it  is  to  help  by  example ;  by  being  so 
true,  so  straightforward  and  so  unselfish  that 
your  friends  emulate  you.  To  live  with  some 
people  is  to  be  lifted  to  a  broader  and  higher 
plane  and  a  purer  air.  In  forming  our  college 
friendships  we  are  probably  entering  into  pleas- 
ant bonds  which  will  never  be  imloosed,  and  we 
should  try  to  be  so  sincerely  loving  that  our 
friends  will  receive  from  us  only  our  best. 
Most  of  us  make  unconscious  revelations  of  our- 
selves when  we  are  off  guard.  Our  living 
312 


Trustful  To-moreows 

should  be  of  an  order  so  pure  and  sweet  that  we 
would  never  be  afraid  of  being  found  out;  that 
we  might  always  be  sure  that  in  our  most  inti- 
mate moments  nothing  in  us  should  hurt  an- 
other soul. 

What  do  we  ask  of  our  dear  friends?  For 
one  thing,  entire  trust.  Girls  use  many  caress- 
ing phrases  and  tender  names  to  each  other,  and 
there  are  girls  whose  natures  seem  to  demand  a 
good  deal  of  demonstration.  ISTow,  there  is 
no  harm  in  this,  to  a  certain  extent,  but  the  love 
which  can  go  without  much  verbal  expression 
is  apt  to  be  the  more  deeply  rooted.  Jealousy 
should  never  be  permitted  to  creep  into  friend- 
ship, and  a  girl  should  take  herself  at  once  to 
task  if  she  perceives  that  she  is  entertaining 
suspicions  of  her  friend,  or  is  vexed  at  the  com- 
ing of  a  third  person  into  the  compact. 

We  are  many-sided  beings,  and  our  natures 
have  many  needs;  a  great  capacity  for  loving 
is  a  splendid  equipment  for  life.  Let  us  not 
dwarf  and  stunt  ourselves  by  selfish  narrowness, 
and  above  all  let  us  shield  our  hearts  from  dis- 
trust; from  readiness  to  imagine  affronts  and 
from  that  over-sensitiveness  which  believes  that 

our  friend  could  intentionally  wound  us. 
313 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

To  our  friends  we  should  give  sympathy; 
should  be  interested  in  their  endeavors  and  am- 
bitions, should  be  ready  to  listen  when  they 
have  anything  to  tell  and  to  counsel  if  they  ask 
advice.  The  foundation  of  sympathy  is  unself- 
ishness, "a  heart  at  leisure  from  itself."  Sim- 
ply to  be  glad  with  others  and  sad  with  others  is 
not  enough;  we  should  go  farther,  and  live  in 
our  friends'  lives.  We  may  not  know  their 
people  but  we  should  try  to  care  about  them, 
and  nothing  which  even  remotely  concerns  our 
comrades  should  seem  to  us  of  no  moment. 
Sympathy,  trust  and  common  interests  will 
very  closely  unite  those  who  are  thrown  to- 
gether in  the  contact  of  daily  life  through  a 
period  of  four  successive  years. 

I  cannot  conceive  of  an  enduring  friendship 
in  which  there  is  in  both  parties  no  love  to 
Christ.  The  disciple  of  Jesus  has  something 
so  lovely  and  dear  as  a  part  of  her  life  that  she 
longs  to  share  it.  Christ  is  so  much  more  to 
her  than  any  earthly  friend  that  aversion  to 
him,  or  indifference,  or  hostility,  if  persevered 
in,  must  repel  her  from  anyone,  however  other- 
wise   attractive.     Alienation    from    him   must 

deeply  grieve  the  true  disciple.     There  is  no  re- 
314 


Trustful  To-moerows 

lation  so  perfect  as  that  of  two  congenial 
natures  who  love  the  Master  and  are  trying  to 
follow  him.  Of  this  I  am  sure,  that  the  Christ- 
lover  will  never  rest  until  she  has  brought  her 
friend  to  the  blessedness  which  she  knows ;  and 
that,  if  her  friend  persistently  refuses  Christ 
and  turns  from  him,  in  the  end,  and  from 
the  operation  of  a  law  as  relentless  as  that  of 
gravitation,  their  friendship  will  cease.  For 
friendship  demands  confidence  and  sympathy 
and  a  life  in  common  interests  day  by  day,  and 
these  cannot  exist  in  perfection  between  those 
who  love  Christ  and  those  who  hate  him. 

Never  Too  Soon 

Never  too  soon?    For  what,  my  dear? 

Never  too  soon  to  choose  the  best, 
And  set  the  mark  of  your  living  clear, 

And  bring  your  soul  to  the  highest  test 

Never  too  soon  to  stand  for  God, 
To  lift  the  banner  of  Christ  on  high ; 

The  foe  with  his  legions  is  all  abroad, 
And  his  challenging  giants  are  drawing  nigh. 

Our  girls  are  interested  in  deciding  on  their 

future  employments  and  callings.     Among  the 

newer  avocations  journalism  beckons  many,  for 

the  reason,  above  others,  that  it  may  more  read- 
315 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

ily  be  entered  than  law  or  medicine  or  teach- 
ing. The  young  woman  who  expects  to  teach 
needs  very  thorough  preparation,  and,  in  these 
days,  must  if  possible  specialize.  If  she  wishes 
to  instruct  in  the  higher  mathematics,  or  in  art, 
she  will  be  the  better  equipped  if  after  receiv- 
ing her  diploma  she  can  secure  several  years  of 
postgraduate  study  either  at  home  or  abroad. 
If  she  is  to  be  a  doctor,  the  medical  college  ex- 
acts a  regular  and  severely  rigid  course  of 
training,  and  there  is  no  royal  road  hewed  for 
the  feet  of  the  feminine  lawyer.  She  must 
read  grave  legal  books,  and  serve  a  precisely 
similar  apprenticeship  to  that  demanded  by  the 
authorities  from  her  brother. 

A  young  woman  must  begin  as  a  journalist 
at  the  foot  of  the  ladder.  She  may  go  into  the 
newspaper  arena  from  the  high  school.  Several, 
of  our  most  successful  women  editors  have 
never  been  to  college.  Her  equipment  will  be, 
an  outfit  of  good  sense,  mental  alertness,  a 
talent  for  pleasing  others  in  selection,  obedience 
to  orders,  and  ability  to  read,  to  spell,  and  to 
write  good  clear  English.  Much  familiarity 
with  Latin  and  Greek  does  not  so  surely  pre- 
pare a  young  woman  for  successful  journalism 
316 


Trustful  To-moebows 

as  a  good  working  knowledge  of  forceful  every- 
day English. 

A  less  ambitious  but  not  less  honorable  career 
is  open  to  young  women  who  choose  to  become 
the  assistants  of  mothers  in  bringing  up  their 
children,  I  do  not  mean  by  this  merely  the 
nursery  governess  or  the  governess  of  older 
children.  The  mother  assistant  is  more  like 
an  aunt  or  an  elder  sister  as  she  fits  into  the 
household,  and  relieves  the  mother  of  burdens. 
We  are  learning  that  little  children  should  not 
be  given  over  into  the  hands  of  ignorant  and 
illiterate  peasant  women  from  other  lands,  just" 
in  the  period  when  they  are  most  easily  im- 
pressed by  companionship  with  those  about 
them.  The  office  of  mother's  assistant  should 
be  filled  by  an  educated  lady,  and  no  college 
graduate  need  hesitate  to  assume  it.  Also, 
there  are  women  of  large  means  who  are  able 
and  willing  to  pay  liberally  for  such  service. 

I  hope  there  are  a  multitude  of  girls  who, 
when  college  days  are  over,  wiU  be  willing  and 
happy  to  remain  quietly  at  home,  filling  in  the 
chinks  there  and  blessing  the  lives  of  their  par- 
ents.    In  our  time,  it  is  almost  exceptional  to 

find  a  grown-up  daughter  who  is  not  reluctant 
317 


Cheerful  To-days  and 

to  do  this ;  each  longs  for  a  sphere  of  wider  oc- 
cupation. But  to  some  the  Lord  may  have 
assigned  only  the  household  with  its  blessed 
obscurity;  only  the  little  lowly  place  in  the 
vineyard,  under  his  own  eye. 

"One  thing  is  needful."  Still  we  hear  him 
saying  this,  and  if  of  any  one  of  us  he  shall  say 
that  she  hath  "chosen  the  good  part,"  what 
more  can  we  desire?  To  be  thorough,  to  be 
conscientious,  to  be  diligent  and  faithful,  are 
the  needs  of  the  hour  for  all  women. 

From  silken  cords  of  earth's  delight. 

From  iron  chains  of  care, 
O  set  us  free  when  in  thy  siglit, 

Dear  Lord,  we  kneel  in  prayer. 

Forbid  that  dreams  of  ease  and  cheer, 

Or  transient  thoughts  of  pride, 
Should  make  a  chilling  atmosphere 

To  drift  us  from  thy  side. 

Forgive  if  moaning  discontent 

In  unbelief  complains ; 
Forgive  if,  when  our  hearts  are  rent, 

We  think  but  of  their  pains. 

Still  come  thyself  in  darkest  hours 
And  cleave  the  gloom  with  rays 

So  bright  that  all  our  grateful  powers 
Shall  turn  from  grief  to  praise. 
318 


Trustful  To-morrows 

Still  consecrate  our  joyful  times 

With  bliss  beyond  compare, 
While  faith  the  spirit's  strength  sublimes 

And  robes  of  light  we  wear. 

Oh,  lift  us  to  the  better  life ! 

The  shadows  come  and  go, 
But  where  thou  art  above  the  strife. 

The  winds  of  heaven  blow. 
319 


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